


Verlorenes Wasser

by Hermaline75



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Sex, Conveniently Bilingual Character, Frottage, Ghost Hunters, M/M, Mutual Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-11
Updated: 2017-07-17
Packaged: 2018-11-05 22:36:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 37
Words: 35,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11023005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hermaline75/pseuds/Hermaline75
Summary: Thor believes in ghosts. He's seen them. He knows they're real. So when he hears rumours of a spooky apparition near Dresden, he's there as fast as he can go.Local cop Loki is putting this down to pranking kids, but that doesn't mean he wouldn't mind spending a little more time around this handsome ghost hunter who's wandered into his beat.But is there something in the woods? Or is Thor just chasing the wind?





	1. Chapter 1

Maybe presenting a folder of evidence was not Thor's best plan for convincing Sif that he hadn't completely lost control of his life, but it was all he had. He did it at breakfast so she couldn't escape and he was up and dressed and everything. Absolutely the model flatmate. He'd probably clean later and take the bin out.

She flicked through the pages with a slight frown, everything from Wikipedia articles to newspaper clippings that he'd painstakingly translated himself with Google and a second-hand pocket German dictionary.

"Well..." she said. "That's me told. Absolutely. Drunk people reporting a headless horseman in the woods is definitely a good reason to go to a country whose language you do not speak for an undefined amount of time."

When she put it like that, it sounded ridiculous.

"It's the first good lead I've had in ages," he said, snatching his collection back across the kitchen table. "And I haven't done any research - proper research for myself - in so long. I've been chasing other people's ghosts for them. This one would be mine. I think it might finally be it."

She gave him that very same pitying look that always crossed her face when he got excited about something that was definitely real this time. He sighed and decided to get right to the point.

"I have money for my half of the rent for the next three months from the job I did in Gloucester in December. I just need you to cover for me with my parents if they call. Tell them I'm working. Don't specify that it's not actually for any money."

"They worry about you. The ghost tours were one thing, that's just telling stories. And going on TV, that's... I mean, that's practically acting. They can still show off to their friends and know you're getting a decent wage. But this... What are you trying to get out of it? Proof that ghosts exist?"

"I want to see it. That's all."

"Why?"

He shrugged. He just wanted to. Why did people want to see Mount Fuji or the Grand Canyon? Because really seeing them for yourself was amazing.

"Will you cover for me? Just if they get worried. I have the money, you will not be out of pocket and I definitely won't come crawling back looking for a loan. Scouting out an entire castle paid more than I expected."

"And remind me what you found there?"

That was unfair. He'd found the same kind of thing he always found on jobs for rich people in old houses desperate for the man from TV to tell them it was haunted. Draughts causing chilly spots. A family of rats beneath the floorboards that made dogs and cats react violently to apparently empty corners. Birds nesting in the roof space making scratching sounds. Creaking pipes. Hours of dead air on recordings. And no real explanation for objects moving around with no one in the room or doors unlocking themselves. Someone was forgetful. Someone wanted to attract more tourists.

"It barely qualified as a haunting," he mumbled. "No reports of sightings. This one, though, this has real potential. People have seen it."

"Thor, even if they're not lying, it's just someone dressed up. This is an ancient legend and someone's idea of a joke. It's classic Scooby-Doo."

"But even if I find that it was the old janitor wearing a mask, that's something. Proof of non-existence will help me next time. Please. I know you don't get it, but this is important to me."

She still had that look on her face, her crisp shirt and coffee cup reminding him all the more that she was the grownup here with her proper job and scepticism.

"Two months, maximum. I'll tell your folks you're on holiday. But I'm not letting you burn all your money on this. Not again. You never know when the next Gloucester will show up."

That was true, which why at the back of his folder he had planned his expenses. Hostel room, happy to share with others - after all, who would pick on a six foot guy with his build? Salads and pre-prepared food, not restaurants. Maybe pick up some casual bar work or waiting shifts if he needed to. He'd be alright.

"I owe you," he said.

"No," she replied, finishing her breakfast. "You owe yourself. I know you love this stuff and everyone needs a passion, but it's really starting to consume you."

Thor forced a smile. She didn't understand. She'd never understood, even when he'd told her the deeply underwhelming story of the first - and so far only - time he'd seen a ghost.

It happened when he was twelve years old. And he hadn't been scared. He'd woken up in the middle of the night to pee and saw a woman in the garden. She looked lost and confused, long blonde hair. And she seemed to look through him, like he wasn't really there. Her eyes were on him, but she didn't react even when he waved.

She didn't look like a ghost. She just looked like a person. Normal, jeans and a t-shirt. Which was odd as it was a cold night. Much too cold not to have a coat on.

And then he saw her again the next night on the news. She'd been killed in a hit and run a few streets over and they hadn't found her body right away. She'd been lying out there, lost and alone, when he'd seen her wandering around. Which was impossible. That's how he knew... She had to be a ghost.

Just a dream? Maybe. He asked himself that over and over again. But it had been so real. And it had definitely been her, the same woman. Maybe he'd seen her around and just dreamed her, but he was so certain about it.

He knew he'd seen a ghost. And he wanted to see another one. To be sure. And maybe that was strange, but he really needed it. He needed to know why him, why her, why then. If he could crack the secret of how to see them, it would change the world. 

The other kids had called him Sixth Sense and Haley Joel for years because of his phantom obsession. But now he was 'the hot paranormal investigator guy' on low-budget ghost hunting shows and in demand to examine buildings from basement to attic in search of the dead. Who was laughing now?

Still them, probably.

But he really did have high hopes for Dresden. A headless horseman? He'd never hunted one of those before.

And if nothing else, he'd have a nice trip to Germany.

It would be fun.

Sif even gave him a lift to the airport for his stupidly early flight, even though he kept insisting that he would be fine getting a taxi or the morning shuttle bus. And then, of course, he had the fun of waiting around in the duty-free in Amsterdam for hours before his flight to Dresden.

Then again, he had the chance to look over his notes. There was no such thing as being too prepared, however much he liked to just jump in.

The place he needed to go to was called Verlorenes Wasser. As far as he could understand from the sparse information he'd found in English, it was an area of streams where the water had vanished into the ground at certain points to leave empty river beds. A strange place. Exactly the kind of place where ghosts were seen - out of the ordinary. Unusual. Where you could believe the divide between worlds was thin.

The only problem was he wasn't quite sure exactly where the spot was. The Dresden Basin seemed to be fairly large. He would have to get maps, local maps. More research, his favourite.

And first he had to find his hostel and try not to hit anyone with his too-big backpack.

The staff were very nice, telling him all about the breakfasts they offered, that he could have any bed in the room, giving him keys and explaining the fire safety rules. No smoking, alcohol and guests had to be declared, absolutely no drugs. No problem.

"So what brings you to Dresden?" the hostess asked. "Work, vacation?"

"Bit of both. I'm doing a little research. But some of it's for personal reasons rather than work."

She smiled the smile of someone who needed no further information and wished him luck with it.

He certainly hoped for that.

If that horseman was out there, he was going to see it.


	2. Chapter 2

"So where exactly is the Dresden Basin?"

Thank heaven for local tourist information centres. Clear maps, detailed folklore books, the cover of just being a visitor and not a weird ghost man. People who genuinely wanted to help.

"Ah, no, you've misunderstood. Dresden is _in_ the Dresden Basin."

Oh...

With a lot of cross-referencing, he was at last able to get a rough location for these so-called missing streams. It was going to be tough to get out there and to set up his equipment, but if he took the bus and followed the path, it looked like he could manage.

He read every scrap of information they had about the horseman. The stories of young women going looking for acorns - why acorns? Were they edible? - and hearing ghostly hunting horns in the woods, sightings of a carriage made of bones and human skin, headless shoulders and bowls of blood being hurled over anyone who dared to pursue him.

And all the typical stuff about foretelling death, causing death, general antagonism. Why did people always assume ghosts cared about living humanity at all? In Thor's experience, both his own and the reports he found most credible, most ghosts were just lost. Looking for something. They held no ill-will towards the living unless the living got in their way.

Folklore seemed to suggest this particular ghost had been a soldier. He was probably looking for the battle, suspicious of anyone he saw - assuming he could see - as a spy.

It wasn't always clear whether the ghosts could see the people who saw them. Sometimes they reacted, or seemed to, and sometimes they acted as though they were still going about their lives, walking through walls that used to be doors and climbing long-fallen stairs, the land of the living completely invisible to them.

Thor had a theory linking it to quantum physics and time travel, but even other paranormal investigators sometimes gave him odd looks when he talked about that.

Out in the forest, he looked like any other walker, enjoying the nice weather. He said hello to everyone he passed but had to just smile at any other comments, hoping they were things like "Nice day for it" and not "Careful, you're about to enter bear territory."

And the atmosphere at the empty streams hit him immediately. Something just felt wrong. Out of place. He didn't always trust his own intuition, but this... Oh, yes. This was the place. This was where it roamed at night, if it was really out here. 

The ground was covered in fallen leaves, brown and crackling, the paths of where water had once been so smooth and precise. Trees reached up towards the sky like their roots were the only things keeping them from taking flight. And it was so still and quiet. Not even birdsong.

It was going to take a few hours to set up his equipment. He had a lot of it. Several recording thermometers to identify any unusual fluctuations in heat over a wide area. Magnetic field graph. Air pressure meter. And, of course, weather-proof cameras. Lots of them.

He was checking his batteries when someone cleared their throat behind him.

"Guten Tag. Was machen Sie da?"

Thor looked over his shoulder to see who that low voice belonged to and made fleeting eye-contact with a bemused policeman. At least, he assumed that's what the blue uniform meant.

"Um, I... Uh... Sprechen Sie... Anglisch?"

Was that not it? Had he said it wrong? He should really have made sure he had that one right before coming out.

"What are you doing, sir?"

OK. Close enough then. Excellent.

"Oh, I am... I am hunting. Not animals!" he clarified quickly, thinking of permits and safety laws. "I'm hunting for ghosts. The headless horseman?"

The man frowned at him as he got up and Thor wondered if he'd understood.

"You know, ghosts?" he tried. "Woooo..."

"I understand, thank you. May I see some identification?"

Great. He'd been here about five minutes and already he was in potential trouble with the law. The cameras probably. There were bound to be rules about potentially taking people's picture without their knowledge.

He stared at Thor's passport for a long while before giving it back.

"Are you a professional hunter, Mr Odinson? Or do you only shoot on weekends?"

Thor realised he was blushing a little. He was being teased and he wasn't entirely sure how he felt about that.

"Professional. I've even been on TV."

Why was he telling this stranger that?

"Oh, really? Would it be online, these appearances? I'd like to look them up for confirmation, if I can."

Mortified, Thor mumbled the names of some of the programmes he'd taken part in. 'House Haunting' in which first-time buyers agreed to stay the night in supposedly ghost-infested houses for the chance to buy them cheap. 'Spooks of Sheffield', which was pretty self-explanatory. And, of course, 'Things That Go Bump in the Night', which was less racy than it sounded.

"My parents are very proud," he said as the officer made a note of the titles.

"I'm sure they are. And how exciting to have attracted a celebrity. But you won't find anything here I'm afraid. I've seen it a hundred times. Kids making a joke, scaring their friends by dressing up. No ghosts."

"Well," Thor said. "Absence of evidence and all that. All research is vital."

Classic. Meet a handsome guy - and yes, that was just registering with him - who might be flirting and then immediately put him off with all the spooky shit.

"Is it OK for me to set up my equipment?" he asked. "Will it bother anyone or anything like that?"

"Not at all. Carry on. Maybe I'll come back tomorrow and see what you catch."

Huh.

Alright. Maybe not too put off after all.

But then again, it was only after he'd left that Thor realised he hadn't asked for a name.

It was probably unwise to call a stranger Constable Handsome, wasn't it?

Though he couldn't help but hope against hope that he would return and that, if he did, the machines would have picked up something even vaguely impressive.

He knew from bitter experience that there were few things less likely to result in further interest than trying to impress someone with a garbled blooping noise that could be the Samoan for "house" if you pitched it up, played it backwards and fed it through automatic translation software.

That had been a weird time, even for him. If it hadn't been for Sif really desperately needing a flatmate, even an unreliable one, who knew where he'd be?

Probably not in a German forest with the potential to find exactly what he'd been looking for, that was not sure.

The wind whistled through the trees above him. Maybe it was a sign.

Or maybe his recordings were just going to be whooshing sounds, as usual.


	3. Chapter 3

It wasn't that Thor didn't have a love life, it was just that sometimes it felt like the only way to detect it would be on one of his instruments. An extremely sensitive instrument at that.

Things always tended to go the same way. He'd meet someone and like them, have a couple of dates and then he'd be forced to reveal what he did for a living and suddenly they weren't as interested as they first thought.

He'd been the weird ghost kid and now he was the weird ghost man. In theory, he was living the dream. How many people actually got to be what they had wanted to be when they grew up? It just came with consequences, that was all.

Some people just found it too weird. Some were sceptics and didn't want to be around a 'true believer'. Some had issues with the whole industry of mediums and people who claimed they could contact the Other Side. He once had a date lecture him for a full twenty minutes about how he was a despicable parasite preying on vulnerable, gullible people. That had been a fun night.

Had the handsome policeman really been flirting with him? Just a little bit? Or had he imagined it? Was it just relief that he'd found a harmless weirdo rather than a dangerous criminal?

Then again, Thor wasn't going to pretend he didn't know people found him attractive. He read the comments under the videos sometimes, usually against his better judgement. He had a few admirers among all the "Oh my goddd, so fake" and so on. He could catch an eye or two.

Of course, maybe the guy just wanted to practise his English with a native speaker, like that girl he'd met in Spain that time. Yeah, that was probably it. That made sense.

All the same, as he drew up his tables to note the week's measurements in, he really hoped that he would come back. Even if just to check that he hadn't been lying and that the machines really were there to try to measure ghostly presences.

And besides, that was what his focus ought to be on. He'd come to find a legendary headless horseman, not have a holiday fling.

Now he was here, the discrepancies in the eye-witness accounts were starting to bother him. For a start, sometimes it seemed this horseman didn't even have a horse. Or sometimes he had many horses, a whole team of them to pull his demonic carriage. With a whip made from a human spine. That was a nice touch. Didn't sound very practical though. Wouldn't bits of it break off?

There was a horse in the most recent report though, the one that had drawn Thor in. He'd seen it on a messageboard that was frankly a little too intense for his tastes most of the time, but they did tend to have fairly credible tips. And someone had translated it better than running it through Google Translate had managed.

A young couple had been camping when they heard the distinctive sound of hooves outside. Worried that it was a deer looking to steal their food, they had shuffled out and then...

_At first, we thought it was a child because the figure looked very short, but then we realised it was because there was no head, just a rough stump. It didn't look like a clean cut. It didn't appear to be carrying a head. It was just a headless rider, trotting by. It was too dark to see its clothes, but they seemed to creak, like they were made of thick leather or maybe even metal. The horse didn't seem to have eyes either..._

Thor wished he had a way to contact them. Not only were honest accounts more likely in person, but the press liked to spice things up. And some people thought the more spookiness they could cram in, the more likely they were to be believed. Thor would generally believe one normal-looking person who could not possibly have been in the place they were than a hundred accounts of bleeding walls or rattling chains in the night.

He was beginning to form a picture all the same. A rough injury, not a clean one? So a war wound. Maybe even a particularly unlucky cannonball. That would explain why it didn't carry its head. There wouldn't be much of one left to carry.

Of course, opinion was divided as to how much or little the average ghost demonstrated how they had died. Thor played a little fast and loose with his opinion depending on the evidence he had. In fact, he thought there may be different varieties of ghost who manifested in different ways... But he was getting ahead of himself.

Dresden was lovely, he learned. And his hostel wasn't bad at all. He still had the dorm all to himself and was woken by the smell of pancakes. They seemed only too happy to fill him up before he headed out to enjoy the morning and then check on his equipment. It turned out the bus only cut his journey time by about a half hour so he'd much rather save the fare and walk.

Well, the temperature had certainly dropped it various points overnight. As was typical for night time. Nothing particularly unusual on his other meteorological sensors. No air pressure changes that hadn't been predicted in the weather forecast.

Cameras then?

Well, the motion activated one had taken three pictures...

"Good hunting?" a voice asked behind him.

Thor tried not to grin too obviously. Constable Handsome!

"I'm about to find out. Want to see?"

He got up and played back the first picture.

Well, that was a squirrel...

"It takes a picture when something moves," he said awkwardly.

The second picture had what looked like the back end of a cat heading out of shot.

But the third one...

Thor stared at it. There was nothing obvious that would have set it off, so...

"A bird, maybe?"

"Maybe, but... Do you see that shape there in the trees?"

Squinting. No, he didn't. And, yes, it was a stretch, but Thor thought there was something there. A space that was too dark. Like someone was standing perfectly still between the trees. But he couldn't quite see it well enough.

"Might be nothing. I'll need to check it on a computer and enhance it a bit."

He was suddenly aware that his new friend was really quite close to him. Which was normal to look at the same camera display, but he was making absolutely no effort to step away.

"Do you have any time while you're here when you're not ghost hunting, Mr Odinson?"

Thor stammered.

"I, uh... What do you have in mind?"

"Just that I'm finished my shift. And I would love to find out all about your equipment."

No, he didn't. No one did, not even other ghost hunters half the time. Which meant he was trying to seem interested for a different reason.

"I mean, it's pretty boring," Thor said. "It's mostly just weather devices, but I might leave a tape recorder tonight in case hearing the hoof beats is easier than catching it on camera."

"You can share your theories about the ghost and I shall debunk them with my local knowledge. It will be fun."

There was something about his face, his eyes. A little look that said "I want to get to know you better."

It seemed a little too fast, but then again, he was a tourist, likely only in town for a number of weeks, so maybe fast was... was good?

"Just let me reset all my sensors?" Thor said. "And then we can go for a drink or something?"

"Talk me through what you're doing. I'm interested. Really."

He was clearly just trying to be nice, but he was very handsome and he knew what Thor was doing and what he did professionally and wasn't running away. In fact he was making an effort to listen and...

Well, his head of year had always said, an opportunity refused was an opportunity missed.

Thor stuck out his hand.

"Call me Thor, by the way."

A firm shake from a delicate hand.

"Loki. Nice to meet you, Thor."


	4. Chapter 4

It was so strange. Loki seemed genuinely interested in all his equipment, asking how ghosts were meant to affect each one, what he would consider a normal range, what the oddest reading he'd ever had was.

It look a long time for Thor to realise he was being teased. An embarrassingly long time. But it was fun teasing, not malicious, and so Thor felt he could tease back.

"So ghosts increase air pressure? How much?"

"Oh, it can be quite violent. I once saw a man's wrist snapped just by reaching into a room without checking it first. That was a particularly bad one. But the ghost was really nice once you got to know her."

Loki's eyes went big for a moment before he realised in turn that it was a joke.

"You're laughing at me."

"Come on, you were laughing at me first. It's only fair."

"Sorry."

"No, don't be. I've had worse."

He finished his last checks and followed Loki to his car - thankfully not his work one - with only the smallest amount of concern that he was about to get in a car with a stranger. He'd be fine. No serial killer would have listened to that much information on electromagnetic field fluctuations just for him.

"Do you really believe, then?" Loki asked, slowly driving them out of the forest. "Ghosts and spirits?"

"I do. But I'm a sceptical believer."

"Ooh. What's that?"

"It just means I maintain a healthy sense of disbelief for anything I haven't personally experienced. I try not to take things at face value. Ghosts are big business - and I should know. It's how I live. But you learn pretty quickly to tell the difference between someone who's seen something or believes they have and someone who just wants to put the world 'haunted' on their website to drive sales."

"But you've seen ghosts yourself?"

"Yeah."

No need to say that it was once and a long time ago. He knew what he saw.

To his surprise, Loki didn't press for more details. He simply nodded, eyes on the road ahead as he drove them into town. That was a bit odd. Most people asked. But instead he encouraged Thor to talk about the most blatant hoaxes he'd ever come across. The fishing wire and puppetry ones were always a good laugh.

"I'm being very rude," Thor said when they pulled into Dresden centre. "Blabbing away. Tell me about yourself."

Loki laughed as he pulled up by a row of houses.

"Buy me a drink to apologise," he said. "And I will."

There was a pub round the corner and, well, when in Germany... A few words and a lot of pointing and he was carrying two beers over to the table Loki had chosen in the corner. It was a nice place, all possibly original wood beams and scratched old surfaces.

"I'm afraid there really isn't much of a story to my life," Loki said, carefully sipping to avoid the foam. "Born and raised here. Travelled around a bit, but somehow always drifted back. Basically been here forever. The familiarity's comforting and I like being close enough to visit my parents, but I sometimes wish I'd branched out further."

"Did you study?"

"Mostly by myself. Couldn't really stick to things long enough for a full course, you know."

Thor kind of didn't. He felt like he'd spent his life sticking. Even his qualifications in electrical engineering and electronics were geared towards his obsession with the dead, doodling ideas for new devices and meters in the margins of his notes.

What else did... people talk to each other about on dates? Was this a date, even? There had been reading - maybe even borderline flirting - and one had invited the other and he had bought the first drinks, but... But was it really? He still wasn't sure. Maybe this was just conversation practice. 

"Your English is really good."

Compliments. Safe compliments.

"Thanks. Lots of TV taught me. My written English is terrible. Apostrophes. Never got the hang of them."

"To be fair, most of us native speakers get it wrong too."

"We have them in German, don't get me wrong, but you guys are obsessed."

Thor didn't think before speaking.

"Maybe you can teach me a few choice terms in German some time."

And he realised just how flirtatious that sounded a moment after Loki smirked at him. Oh, God... Not like that.

Crap. This was a date, wasn't it?

He was probably blushing everywhere, but Loki seemed to sense his discomfort and didn't go for the obvious response, to his eternal gratitude.

"Well, your ghost is German, right? What would you want to say to it?"

Of all the questions he'd ever been asked about ghosts, that wasn't one he'd heard before.

"Not sure. I've never actually spoken to one before. Well... I've experimented with Ouija, but never anything conclusive. So I guess the kind of questions you ask on those. Hi, what's your name? Can I help you with anything? That sort of thing."

"Help them?"

"You know. The whole unfinished business thing. It's not universal, but it is a common theme."

A soft smile.

"You know, for a strange man in the woods with cameras, you're very sweet."

Huh. No one had ever said that to his face before.

"They're just people. That's what I try to keep in mind. Sometimes people are angry or lost or scared and they need help. Ghosts are just the same."

A nod.

"What do you think the ghost in the woods needs?"

Thor took a big swig of beer. It was nice, yeasty and full-flavoured, like drinking really nice bread.

"Well," he said. "If I get to meet him, I'll try to find out."

"Maybe I should come with you to translate. I'd hate for him to get the wrong idea and start angrily playing with the air pressure."

Being teased was so much nicer than being dismissed. Before too long, Thor was laying out his evidence and Loki was holding back his giggles badly and bringing up a rebuttal and an explanation for every "unexplained" event.

A person padding up their shoulders to appear headless. Halloween pranks. Flat out lies for attention. The tourist board trying to attract a new market.

Before Thor knew it, they'd finished their third drinks and the sky was distinctly pink, just a hint of night on the horizon.

"I should be getting back to my hostel," he said. "I think they'd worry about me if I... Didn't come back."

Loki seemed honestly a little disappointed.

"Shame," he said. "Thought you might like to spend a little more time around the living."

Thor's mouth went somehow dry and not at the same time. Was this too fast? Probably.

And, yes, it sounded fun, but they had only just met and...

He needed at least another day.

"I'll be in the woods most afternoons if you want to stop by?"

A smile, only a little grudging.

"Maybe I will. As long as you promise to protect me from the spooky ghost."

That didn't seem like he was feeling rejected. Not completely anyway.

As he swayed his way back to the hostel - he should really have got food to go with his beer - Thor really hoped Loki would show up again. It was nice to talk to someone, even someone who clearly thought it was all nonsense.

Or maybe his judgement was just clouded by attractiveness.

Yeah. Could be that.


	5. Chapter 5

Patterns were very important. Some ghosts liked a routine. A dip in temperature once was one thing, twice another, but every night at the same time to the exact same low? That could be something interesting.

In fact, Thor had noticed something he deemed not only interesting but decidedly unusual by the time Loki showed up again three days later, long after Thor had assumed he'd given up and decided a one or two-night stand wasn't worth the trouble.

As a result, he was in real danger of seeming far, far too eager. He'd been regretting not going home with him, wondering what would have happened if he had, imagining those smirking lips against his own.

"I've been on the night shift," Loki explained, as if he needed to justify his absence. "Crime doesn't sleep."

He didn't seem terribly impressed with Thor's newest observations though.

"It gets cold at night," he said shrugging. "That's normal."

"Not this cold, not at this time of year," Thor said. "Look. 2am, every night. It goes down to between zero and four degrees. And every night around two, my camera goes off. I don't think that's a coincidence."

"And what's in the pictures?"

Well, that was the problem.

"Nothing. I have a whole bunch of circumstantial evidence, but nothing I'd believe if I read it myself yet."

"To be fair, didn't you say you'd only believe what you saw with your own eyes?"

He had said that, yes. And it was true. Cameras could be fooled and wishful thinking could conjure ghosts out of shadows and mist all too easily.

"I can hardly be out here at two in the morning to wait for it though."

It was different in houses. You could stay over, catch the owner in the act of faking the haunting. Or the perfectly natural phenomenon being mistaken for supernatural events.

"We have an amazing invention here in Germany called 'the tent' that lets you sleep outdoors without worrying about the weather. I have one if you'd like to use it. Maybe the ghost will appear to us."

Thor's brain was so many steps ahead of itself, excited at the prospect of being there at the right time, able to check on the cameras at night, that the sudden flag of Loki's suggestion took a moment to catch his attention.

"You... You'd want to camp out with me?"

"When else will I get the chance to spend the night in haunted woods with a real ghost hunter? Also I don't want to risk you stealing my tent."

Handsome and funny and helping him out? What had he done to deserve this?

"Besides," Loki said, shrugging one shoulder. "Even if we don't see anything, I'm sure we can... get to know one another better."

Oh. Oh, and forward. Well.

"Any time before or after 2am," Thor said, chuckling nervously. "I might set an alarm. It'll be the first time I've... you know... done anything like that on a hunt."

"Really? I thought that was part of the job. Or have horror movies been lying to me all this time?"

Pretty much, yes. All those sexy college students had done great damage to the ghost hunting community's image. People thought it was all camisoles and pyjama shorts and artfully disarrayed hair.

"That would be like a chemist snogging instead of checking their petri dishes."

A frown. Oh, no. Was that not joking enough? Did he seem too stern, too dull?

"Snog-ging?"

"Oh, uh... Like kissing? Making out, you know."

"Ah. So that's off the table, is that what you're saying?"

More blushing. He hadn't been this flustered since he was a teenager. Why couldn't he get a hold of himself?

"Not at all. Just as long as you won't get bored if I have to go check up on the machines."

"And I just hope my... snogging technique is good enough. It's been a little while."

He was probably meant to invite some practice in response to that observation, but Thor was nothing if not self-sabotaging. He was already thinking of where to put the tent, where would be the best vantage point, whether they needed to be secluded or if he could risk trying to get a better view.

After all, the witness couple had been quite close if their testimony was accurate. Maybe the ghost couldn't see after all.

Thor had sudden visions of his hand passing through the muzzle of a spectral horse, the tingle in his fingers, the chill, the horseman's shoulders moving like he could sense someone there... But he was getting ahead of himself. In all likelihood, nothing would happen.

Didn't mean he wasn't allowed to get excited though.

Loki drove him back into town so he could have the awkward experience of telling the hostel owner that he would be, ahem, out with a friend and not to worry about him before they went to Loki's place - via a supermarket for food - to repack and to drag the tent out of the cupboard.

And what a place it was. Apparently being in the police paid better than Thor expected. As flats went...

"Wow. This is yours?" he asked, suddenly feeling very slovenly and uncouth.

"I inherited it from my uncle. My parents want me to rip the old features out, but... No, I like it too much."

And Thor could see why. Cornices and wood panels, fireplaces... It was the kind of place he'd love to live in. Not that he didn't like the place he and Sif shared, but it was a little... blank. Biscuit-coloured walls, flat ceilings where asbestos-filled artex swirls were long ago ripped out, no personality to speak of except their belongings and pictures.

He politely looked around while Loki put an overnight bag together. Books mostly in German, of course. DVDs and VHS and Blu-rays all mixed up. CDs and records and cassettes. A whole mishmash of things.

After a few minutes, Loki reappeared in a black cotton top and black pyjama bottoms that left precious little to the imagination. Thor knew he was staring but he couldn't quite help it.

"I don't fancy trying to change in the open," Loki explained, putting his overnight bag down and digging through a cupboard, dragging out what looked like a canvas bag.

"Is that army surplus or something?" Thor asked.

"I think it's fake rather than actual equipment. Bought it online. Liked the look of it. And it's pretty good at keeping the wind and rain out."

Fair enough. And it was going to be fun. Eating supermarket snack foods, camping out, waiting for ghosts. Occupying themselves in the meantime.

If they ever managed to put the tent up, of course...


	6. Chapter 6

"No, come on," Loki said, laughing into his pasta box. "You can't be a ghost hunter and not tell me the story of your first spooky meeting with one."

Thor was loathe to tell it. There was no spookiness, no atmosphere to it. Most people thought he must have dreamt it. Even his mother claimed she couldn't remember him telling her about seeing a woman in the garden the next morning.

But they were being open and friendly, so maybe he should...

"It's not an impressive story," he warned.

"I don't mind. I just want to hear it."

Well, fine.

"I was twelve. And it was October, I think. The fifteenth or sixteenth. I wish I knew the exact date, but I don't. I woke up in the night and as I walked down the hall to the bathroom, I saw a woman outside in the garden."

The temptation was there, as always, to embellish. To make up something about her arms being on backwards or bring covered in blood or seeming transparent. But no. That was not true.

"She looked normal. Lost maybe. But she was out in short sleeves in the middle of the night, which I found strange because it was cold. I waved, but she didn't react. Just wandered off into the night."

It made goosebumps rise up on his skin just thinking about it.

"So what made you think she was a ghost?" Loki asked.

"Because she couldn't have been there. They reported it on the news the next night. When I saw her, she'd been dead for perhaps three days. They couldn't tell exactly."

"Definitely the same person?"

"I'm certain of it. As sure as I am that you're sitting there. No big show or huge revelation. Just someone who could not have been there walking around."

"And so you know how she died?"

"Yeah. Someone hit her with their car. I actually know a frankly creepy amount about her, looking for clues as to why her, why no one else. But she's very normal. Her name was Christine Robbins. She was 32. Had a fiance. No kids. Worked in IT. Nothing odd or usual about her at all."

"And yet she completely changed your life."

Thor couldn't quite place Loki's tone. Was that pity he heard? Wonder? He didn't know.

"You can see why no one believed me," he said. "It was a dream or just another woman walking around at night for some reason."

"Those would be my explanations, yes. Seems more logical than jumping straight to ghosts. Have you ever seen another one, for example?"

"Not knowingly, but she looked normal. Others could look normal too."

"But that involves making that first jump to her being dead in the first place."

Yes. It did. And Loki was making a lot of sense. But he was also looking pensive and beautiful, head tilted to the side thoughtfully.

"Is this normally when people laugh?"

"No. Normally they've already started by now."

Loki smiled, but definitely did not laugh.

"You're very... Uh... Not principled. More like you really believe what you're saying? There's a word for it..."

"Sincere?"

"Yes, thank you. You're very sincere. And I don't think it's right to laugh at harmless sincere beliefs, even if I don't share them."

Well, that was very decent of him, but Thor was still a little uncomfortable. It didn't seem fair that he'd bared all, as it were.

"You got any campfire stories?" he asked, trying to shift attention. "They don't need to be real. Or personal."

"Ah, I'm sure you've heard them all before. I only know the really common ones. Haunted china dolls and so on. Chain letter stuff."

Most people at least had a story of something weird happening. Seeing a shape in the dark. Hearing a strange voice.

"I mean," Loki continued. "You've seen my place now. It's old. It creaks and groans and moans and I just shrug it off. The walls could bleed and I'd think it was just damp and call a builder."

Thor couldn't resist laughing. He'd had to explain water egress more than once to people convinced ghosts were staining their walls.

They'd brought beers with them, making a proper night of it, and it wasn't too long before they were sitting a little closer, touching a little more, both of them holding off making the first move to enjoy the anticipation just a little longer as night began to fall.

"Are you just listening to me talk because you want to get lucky?" Thor asked, as if he wasn't staring at Loki's lips in the pinkish glow of sunset at the time.

"A little. But you're also an intriguing fellow. Passionate. Which, in my experience, bodes very well for the night."

He should stop beating about the bush. He should grab the bull by the horns. He needed to grasp the nettle. Where were all these cliches coming from?

All the same, part of him felt a little sad to be putting his arm around Loki's waist and pulling him close, leaning closer. Because once they'd crossed this line, they'd be a holiday romance and nothing more. He'd have to wonder what would have happened if they'd met in another place, in another time.

If they lived in the same city. If they'd be friends or friends with benefits or more than that.

It felt like so long since he'd made a connection like this, even just for the promise of someone to spend a fun few nights with while he was far from home. Someone who seemed to get him. Or at least to accept that he was odd and possibly mono-maniac and still wanted to hang out with him. It was nice to meet someone who could make him laugh so easily, someone sharp and funny and just a little spiky too.

However, when their lips finally met, so soft and welcoming, he couldn't help but be glad of it. Mmm. Nice. Maybe they should have got started on this earlier.

And honestly, if Loki was only politely asking him about the spirit world to get kisses and more out of him, maybe Thor didn't really care.


	7. Chapter 7

They had to stop briefly to actually get into the tent, doing up the toggles and shuffling their way between the blankets and roll mats Loki had brought instead of sleeping bags.

It definitely made it easier to touch. They were able to hold each other, hands exploring, tangling in hair one moment and running up all-too-clothed thighs the next. Thor slipped his hands under Loki's shirt, trying not to pause as he distinctly felt the too smooth lines of scars.

He was a cop. Anything could have happened to him in the line of duty. And it would be rude to stop and ask. Rude to ask full stop.

But no wonder he didn't want to change out in the open.

Thor pretended he hadn't felt anything and surged forward, getting a slight sound of surprise from Loki that then turned into a chuckle and an answering grind. Definitely a grind, both of them well on their way to being hard but enjoying the journey to get there.

Did they have tissues or lotion or anything or was Loki planning to...?

Oh. OK, Loki was taking the initiative and tugging at Thor's loose pyjama trousers and so Thor was quick to follow suit to leave them both with awkwardly tangled ankles but now they were skin to skin and Loki was kissing his neck and, wow, he really knew what he was doing.

Thor was melting, eyes fluttering as he did his best to be present and active, reaching down to wrap his hand around Loki's cock, meeting his hand instead. Evidently they'd both had the same thought.

But they found a rhythm, wrists rubbing together, and Thor was sure their pulses were matching and echoing through the contact, trying to keep his eyes open because Loki was wondrous like this, brow slightly creased, lips parted to gasp for breath.

When he came, it was with a little cry, almost swallowed and along with finding it unbelievably attractive, Thor felt strangely privileged to have heard it. A moment of intimacy that he definitely hadn't put in the groundwork to deserve, but Loki had wanted to share that with him.

And now, as his eyes flashed open and his rounded lips moved into a knowing smile, evidently there was something else he thought they ought to share.

Gasping, clinging to shoulder or clothes or blanket, he wasn't sure which, Thor's orgasm came in a rush of overwhelming sensation. Even by himself, knowing exactly what he liked, it had rarely been that strong. But Loki had done something very interesting with his thumb around the head and, ohh...

He was still trying to get his breath back when Loki wiped him down - yes, he had brought tissues - and snuggled in beside him.

"So... How are you enjoying camping?"

Somehow, there was enough air in Thor's lungs to laugh. And then kiss some more.

Somewhere among the soft cuddles and gentle little kisses, they must have fallen asleep. Thor felt a chill down his spine when his eyes flicked open in the dark, certain that something had woken him.

Movement? A noise?

A noise.

His eyes widened, every hair on his body standing on end as he shook Loki's shoulder.

"Hmm?"

"Do you hear that?" he whispered urgently.

Loki propped himself up on his elbows to listen to the night. Silence. He shook his head, a silhouette in the dark, but Thor could have sworn...

Yes! Yes, definitely, something moving out there.

Thor lunged for the tent toggles, hands shaking. Could it be? Really?

He'd die if it was. He'd die if it wasn't.

His breath was misting in front of his face as he struggled to get out - it was cold, so cold, yes, yes - and he was terrified he was making too much noise as he scrambled out and looked left and right in the darkness, the cold making him gasp.

There was rustling somewhere over to the left and Thor tried to steady himself, tried to get his eyes accustomed to the moonlight, feeling each step carefully in case he fell into one of the lost streams.

Closer and closer. It was something big, or at least he thought so. The horse? It wasn't light enough. He couldn't tell. It could be a large deer, he supposed.

It was in an empty pool, a dark shape, as though it was drinking from it and Thor's heart leapt into his mouth. But he still couldn't tell, it could be something else.

A doe raised its head and Thor felt the disappointment crash down upon him. Everything had been right, everything had fallen into place. It had been cold and dark and exactly right and...

Behind him, a loud whinnying shriek echoed through the night.


	8. Chapter 8

Thor span round and tripped on a tree root almost immediately.

Any pain he felt was overshadowed by the fact that he could see what had made that noise, he could see the horse standing proud in the moonlight and it was...

Oh, _wow..._

He'd heard stories about these. Spectral black horses. A grim or a Gytrash in some cultures. Malevolent or kindly, it was hard to tell. It varied. Maybe it depended on whether it liked you.

Even from an untrained perspective, it wasn't a normal horse. Nothing living looked like that. Nothing should have eyes that glowed like that, angry and whirling.

He could have sworn that it noticed him, even though he was keeping as still as he could. The great head suddenly swung sideways, those red orbs fixed on him before it reared and fled down the road.

By the time he managed to scramble up there, it was completely gone.

But he'd seen it. No rider, but still. It counted.

He laughed. Long and loud. He'd seen it!

He was still laughing when he got back to the tent, getting what might be a worried look from Loki. The darkness made it hard to tell.

"I saw it," he said. "Oh, my God. I saw it."

"The horseman?"

"I... Well, no, but I saw the horse. Definitely."

Loki took his hands, tutting.

"You're freezing. And... And wet. Did you fall?"

"Just a little. It's nothing. I saw it! It was right in front of me."

He was practically shaking with excitement. His second genuine encounter with something dead. This could change everything - for a start, it was an animal by itself. An independent phantom horse. Thor had generally subscribed to the view that only humans had ghosts and that the horses and dogs they sometimes brought were extensions of their being, like their clothes, but it seemed that theory needed urgent revision.

Loki hummed lightly, breaking through his rushing thoughts.

"No offence, Thor, but I think you saw a loose horse and got overexcited."

"No..."

"That'll be what the others saw too. Just a horse. It's got out of a field somewhere and it's roaming the woods. Probably setting off your cameras."

"At the same time every night?"

"Maybe they like routine. I wouldn't know."

His jubilation had suddenly turned to disappointment. Loki didn't believe him.

To be fair, he probably wouldn't believe him either. Nothing he hadn't seen with his own eyes, that was the rule.

The camera! The horse must have galloped right by it.

He ignored Loki's protests as he scrambled out of the tent again and - carefully, no more falls, his hands did sting a lot now he wasn't quite so full of adrenaline - made his way to his camera, using his phone as a torch to guide his steps there and back.

"I'll prove it," he said, turning it on and checking the pictures. "Look. It went off."

Loki obediently moved to sit by him as he began trying to find the picture but gasped at the red smears he left on the screen.

"You're bleeding!"

"Probably just a little scratch. Hang on, it should be here..."

Yes, 2:07, there it was. Thor handed it over, triumphant and smug. There was no mistaking that.

"It's a horse," Loki said. "It's just a horse."

"No, look closer. Look at the eyes. They're red."

His heart sank as Loki carefully put his thumb through the smear left by Thor's blood. Not red. But he was so sure...

"They're glowing," he said desperately. "Look, they're glowing."

Loki sighed.

"There's a word for that, it's like... Uh, leuchtender Teppich... When they have a mirror in their eyes. It's just the flash from your camera."

No. No, no, no...

"Did you hit your head when you fell? Are you sure you're alright?"

He thought he was, but maybe... Could he have been seeing things? He didn't think he'd fallen that badly, but what if...

"I have water in my car," Loki said, wrapping the blanket around him. "And bandages for your hands."

Thor blinked as he was gently kissed on the forehead. He'd been so sure! He had been so certain of it. Those eyes, those red eyes, they were so intense in his memory. Could he really have been seeing things?

It made him feel sick even to consider. If he'd just been seeing things a few moments ago, what if he'd just been seeing things all those years ago?

What if he'd imagined Christine Robbins?

What did that mean? Well, that his entire life was a complete waste. And what had caused it? Did he have some kind of medical issue? Was there something wrong with him, something affecting his brain and his perceptions?

There was a thump outside, a whispering noise that could have been Loki swearing under his breath.

"Do you need a hand?"

No answer. Oh, God, had he fallen too? What if they both ended up injured out here, neither of them fit to drive? What was the number for the German emergency services? What if they didn't speak English?

"Hang on, I'm coming."

He wrapped the blanket around himself like a cape and crawled towards the tent flap and with a complete lack of grace, managed to push his way out.

Loki was sitting cross-legged on the ground with his head in his hands.

In the most literal way Thor had ever seen.

For a start, it was at least a foot away from his neck and facing the wrong way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise?
> 
> For real, pretty sure some of you saw this coming back at chapter two when he'd said around six sentences and I was like "HOW?!" I cut references to high collars, inserted random mentions of family and still I had to ride the rickshaw of plot progression up the mountain of EveryoneSawItComing.
> 
> Clearly I'm losing my edge and need to throw in shock twists more often :p
> 
> (Also 'leuchtender Teppich' is the literal German translation of the Latin term for the reflective bit in some animal's eyes and as far as I can tell seems to mean 'glowing carpet'. Little pointless extra info for you there.)


	9. Chapter 9

Thor tried to speak, but couldn't. Words died in his throat. He didn't know what he would even say.

Stunned, he watched as Loki carefully placed his head back on his shoulders and rolled his polo neck over the join in his neck, holding it gingerly in place before fixing Thor with a strange look.

"What?" he asked. "What's wrong?"

"You... You're..."

Loki laughed, but he seemed rattled and _he still hadn't taken his hands away._

"Thor, seriously, I think you've hurt yourself really quite badly. You're seeing things."

Liar!

"Move your hands," Thor said, stony and determined.

"What? No, I fell. I think I'm bleeding..."

"Move your hands!"

A look of determination. A clenching of jaws. And then Loki drew his hands away.

His head remained in place. But Thor had been so sure... He needed to see beneath the fabric. And his mouth was so dry, his tongue so thick as he tried to speak.

"Roll your shirt down."

"What? No! Look, I'm very sensitive about my body. Go back into the tent, I'm fine."

He needed to see.

There was a momentary pause and then Thor lunged.

Loki flinched back from him and for a moment, he thought he'd misjudged this horribly.

But then his head tilted back, falling, and in the moonlight Thor caught a glimpse of parts of the body that you definitely weren't meant to see on anyone who was still talking. The white of a vertebra, shining flesh the dark colour of raw meat, uneven cut marks. It was amazing how quickly they imprinted onto his brain, so clearly, before he even heard the little thump of skull on moss.

Loki - Loki's body - turned round and reached for his head, picking it up and pausing to pluck a leaf out of his hair before putting it back in place.

"Ouch," he said reproachfully.

Thor's jaw had dropped so far that he wasn't sure he'd ever close his mouth again.

"You're... You're a ghost."

Somehow he'd always expected to be cooler when he first spoke to one. All those years of imagining and planning and he just blurted it out like that.

Oh, God, he'd wanked off a ghost. How was that even possible?

Loki huffed, holding his head in place once more.

"I'm not a ghost. I'm a Wiedergänger. It's different. Most of the time I'm just a normal guy with a bad neck scar. But in the moonlight, well..."

He tilted his head from side to side like a child testing a loose tooth.

"And I have to be here in the forest every night at two in the morning, like clockwork. Every night for the last 200 years. Congratulations, ghost hunter, you caught me."

He seemed upset. And Thor was confused.

"Why did you come out here with me?" he asked. "Why take that risk?"

"For God's sake, I was trying to put you off the scent! It's been a nightmare having you here. I've been doing my best to avoid all the cameras and the recorders, but the horse knows where he wants to go most of the time... I thought it I could convince you there was nothing to see, you'd stop."

"And... And all the kissing and... so on?"

"Believe it or not, but I seldom get a chance with such handsome men these days. It's difficult to date in modern times when you refuse to go out at night in case you accidently step into a patch of moonlight. I thought the tent would be safe, the shade would cover me. I didn't expect you to come out after me and I... I don't know. I didn't want to send you home completely disappointed. At least we'd both have a bit of fun."

There were dozens of questions rushing through Thor's mind and he didn't know where to start.

But as he looked at such a face of misery, he figured maybe by trying to make Loki more comfortable.

He stood and held the blanket up, casting a shadow.

"Does that make it easier for you to get back? I think we should talk there instead of out in the cold."

Loki looked up at him, eyes shining despite the lack of light, and sighed as he picked up the supplies he'd dropped.

"Thanks."

What was the etiquette here? Was it rude to ask the dead questions? How personal a question was 'How did you die'?

"I suppose I ought to give you an explanation," Loki said, shuffling back under canvas.

"You don't have to."

A laugh with no humour in it.

"Thor, it's your dream to meet me."

"Yeah, but it's your life. Or... Or not life. If it was my dream to see an elephant, I don't have the right to catch it or make it scared or uncomfortable..."

He was wording this horribly. 

"You can ask me questions if you want," Loki said, finding his hand in the dark again. "But you must promise to tell no one. Promise. If people knew, there'd be panic and people like me, if there are others, we'd... I don't know, be experimented on to find the secret of eternal life or something. You can't tell anyone."

Never tell. Never let anyone know that he'd been right, that sometimes the dead walked.

But he'd know. And maybe that was enough. No more self-doubt, even if the rest of the world thought he was deluded.

"I promise."

A sigh. Of relief maybe. As if he'd be believed if he told people he'd spent the night with a corporeal ghost.

"I suppose I should tell you how I died then."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the record, the moonlight thing is not part of Wiedergänger lore as far as I can tell. Nicked it from Pirates of the Caribbean because CONVENIENCE!
> 
> In fact, I've made up pretty much all the rules and would like to apologise to pretty much all of Northern Europe where this seems to be shared legend. They are closer to zombies than ghosts, hence Loki being tangible.


	10. Chapter 10

"I died on the 27th of August 1813."

The way he said it was so blunt. So final. Like he was reading a history book.

"What happened?" Thor asked, even though he'd said he wouldn't.

"Well... In short, Napoleon happened. And I was in the Prussian army at the time and there was a battle here and I had an unfortunate meeting with a... A Säbel? A big sword."

"A sabre?"

"Ah, of course. It was quick. I don't really remember it. It was waking up that night and realising that my body was several feet to my left and that when I had tried to get up, it had and was crawling around which was a little worrying, especially as I couldn't make any noise. You need lungs to make noise, you need air, even if the connection between lung and vocal cords is... not good."

He was shaking, Thor realised, and his immediate reaction was to move closer, to wrap the blanket around them both, to try to offer comfort.

Loki sighed and tensed beside him.

"You do realise I'm a corpse?"

Thor hesitated, trying to word things carefully.

"Corpses don't go out for drinks, or kiss or touch like you do. Or eat. Whatever you are, it's not as simple as that."

Another sigh.

"I don't actually need to do any of those things, you know. I don't need to eat or sleep or drink. But they're nice and I enjoy them. It's like... You don't physically need sex, you won't die from not having it, but you might want it and have fun with it. That's how I feel about food. Whatever I am, it's not human. I can feel sensations on my skin, but I don't feel hunger or thirst. I only breathe out of habit and to make talking easier. And I understand that is a big thing to learn and that maybe you haven't taken it in yet."

He'd expected rejection, Thor realised. Maybe this had happened before. Or maybe just the opposite. Maybe he'd never shown anyone for fear of rejection along with the safety risks.

Someone else worrying about it certainly wasn't something Thor had ever come across before. Normally his pre-relationship relationships stopped in their tracks because of him, because he was unreliable and strange.

He had his arm around a ghost. Or around... Around a veeder-thing.

And now a horrible thought was entering his head that no matter what he said, Loki would see every further interaction between them as solely from a professional viewpoint. Or worse, from the view of hunter and hunted.

"I like you," Thor said. "And if you want, I'll leave you alone and never come looking for you again."

Loki set his head on Thor's shoulder, defeated.

"It was nice. Pretending to be normal. Even just for a few days."

"We... We could keep going," Thor suggested. "I'm here until at least the end of the week. We could spend it together."

"Don't pity me. I'm much too old to put up with that."

Thor squeezed his hip a little, almost a hug.

"I'm not. I mean it, I like you. I would enjoy spending time with you. And you wouldn't have to tell me anything you didn't want to."

Of course, secretly he was hoping for Loki to tell him everything. Why he thought he'd come back, what it was like being undead, what he meant when he said he had to be in the forest, what happened if he wasn't, what happened if his head was off when the moon went behind clouds...

But it wasn't his right to ask. Death and un-death had clearly been a traumatic experience. And that trauma was none of his business.

"You don't have to hide anything from me," he said carefully. "But that doesn't mean I have to know everything."

Loki sniffed hard, squeezing back.

"It's the middle of the night," he said. "You must be tired. Let me sleep on it?"

"Of course," Thor replied, trying his best not to sound worried.

He wondered what it was like, not actually needing sleep. Being able to think of it as a hobby, as something to look forward to rather than a necessary part of the day.

Probably the same way cuddling felt to him. Warm and pleasant, cosy and soft. Trying not to imagine that he'd wake to find Loki had vanished, abandoning him in the woods.

Or that he had somehow dreamt all this.

He just had to trust. And do his best not to wonder too much - after all, wasn't it a common thing for ghosts to have unfinished business which tortured them? What was Loki's? Did he want help dealing with it?

And if he did, would he vanish for good?

Thor couldn't help but feel that the world would be distinctly less interesting without Loki in it.

If he didn't bring it up, they wouldn't have to deal with it. Which maybe wasn't the healthiest thought, but it was what he had at present. His brain was too busy adapting to this strange new reality to be thinking too much anyway.

Loki was right. He'd be no fun at all if he didn't get at least a little sleep.

Even though his pounding heart and excitement made drifting off difficult.


	11. Chapter 11

There was something moderately creepy about waking up to find Loki watching him. Not staring, just looking. Curious. Wondering.

Thor's eyes flicked down to his neck before he remembered himself and tried to pretend they hadn't. The polo neck covered anything that might or might not be there.

"Guess I can't pretend you dreamt it then," Loki said softly.

"You could have tried. But it's very vivid in my mind, oddly enough."

Loki sighed and sat up.

"Want to see it?"

Before Thor could protest that he didn't have to, that it was none of his business, he'd pulled his top down to reveal a white line all the way around his neck. A definite scar, like he'd somehow healed from the killing blow.

"Still want to be friends with me?"

"Yes," Thor said instantly. "Of course. And... And more if you're comfortable with that."

Loki rolled his eyes.

"You don't have to lie. My feelings can take it."

"I'm not lying."

A scoff made Thor sit up, taking Loki's hand before kissing him softly, chastely, on the lips and then the corner of his mouth, his jaw and finally he pulled the fabric away to kiss his neck, right on the scar.

Loki's chuckle vibrated against his lips, turning into a little moan.

"Mm... Not fair. I haven't felt that since I was alive. Don't think you can kiss your way into making this less weird than it is. I mean, this is practically necrophilia..."

"Ugh," Thor said pulling away. "Well, don't think you can make yourself any less attractive by saying things like that. You're hot and you know it."

"Ooh, men are smooth this century..."

"No, that's just me."

He was flirting with a dead man and it felt great. This was practically his 14-year-old self's dream, only that had been with a beautiful female ghost in an underwired night gown. To be fair, he hadn't realised his attraction to men was indeed attraction at that point.

Loki placed a finger against Thor's lips, pushing him away.

"OK, Mr Smooth," he said. "We'll take down the tent, clean everything up and then I'll start showing you around Dresden. We can't stay here kissing all day."

Thor wasn't quite sure why not, but he desperately wanted to develop a better friendship, to grow a sense of ease between them to remove this slight awkwardness from the air.

Unfortunately for him, it only seemed to become more and more tense as they packed everything back up into Loki's car.

"I need a shower before we go anywhere else," Loki said. "My hair's full of dirt."

"Sorry."

"Not your fault. I'll drop you at your hostel and meet you outside the New Town Hall at around twelve? We can go for lunch."

Thor would have preferred to be together all day, but he supposed Loki deserved a little time alone to process things.

And, to be fair, so did he. He felt like he'd discovered an alien or a timetraveller. And he wanted desperately to know everything, but he knew he mustn't be too eager or demanding. Interrogation might scare Loki off.

After all, 1813? Napoleon? He'd lived through so much. Railways. Cars. Planes. The First World War. The Second World War.

Oh, God, the Second World War... What had he been doing back then?

Well, if he had to be in the forest every night, he couldn't possibly have been in the army. He'd probably just hidden out for a decade or so.

Could he ask that? Loki had witnessed huge chunks of recent history first hand. Would it be intrusive to ask about it? About whether events that were now seismic had seemed so at the time?

He'd have to tread carefully.

Of course, that was assuming Loki showed up for their lunch date. It would be perfectly within his rights not to. Maybe he'd decide not to and stand him up, run away.

That would put the ball in his court, whether to respect that decision or go into the forest again.

Respect, he decided. He'd already overstepped enough boundaries. But he trusted that Loki would keep his word, even if he just came to call a halt.

Alas, going for lunch also relied on him managing to find the New Town Hall.

He should probably have asked what it was in German before trying to rely on street signs.


	12. Chapter 12

Dresden really was beautiful in the warm spring sunshine, sandstone seeming golden and glowing, cool to the touch but absorbing the heat of the day.

With a little help from friendly passers by, Thor finally made it to the Town Hall and managed to spot Loki standing in front of it. He'd changed, his hair tied back as it had been when they first met, a light scarf around his neck and sunglasses. He looked effortlessly cool, like a model waiting to be photographed, getting a few fleeting glances of admiration.

Thor's relief was probably palpable. The two greenish lion statues in front of the building seemed to smile at him encouragingly, even as he abruptly didn't know what kind of greeting to offer. Were they at the kissing in public stage or not?

Loki went for his cheek and though Thor was grateful to have the decision made, he might have preferred something a touch more intimate.

"Almost thought you weren't coming," Loki said, unaware of the irony.

"Yeah, I had trouble finding it. Lucky I didn't end up at the Old Town Hall."

A slightly brittle laugh as Loki began leading him off down a side street.

"That would have been a good trick," he said. "It got bombed out of existence in the 40s."

Was taking this chance too obvious?

"Were you around then?"

Smooth, Thor. Super smooth.

"Define 'around.' Did I see the firebombing, you mean?"

That hadn't been what he meant, but Thor went with it anyway. Loki sighed.

"From a distance, yes. I'd learned by then that when war broke out, I had to become a bit of a wild man for a decade or so. It wasn't the most pleasant thing in the world, but better than the alternative. I'm sure I gave a few people a nasty shock as they fled under cover of darkness. Get a bit dirty and suddenly it's less romantic ghost, more disgusting ghoul."

Right. So he hadn't been conscripted into the army for any other conflicts. That was good. Certainly put Thor's mind at rest at least a little.

Loki led him to a cafe that he would definitely have walked past if he'd been alone. Not because it didn't look nice. It was just small and nondescript. He wouldn't have noticed it.

"Let's make one thing clear," Loki said as Thor looked at the menu and pretended he could read it. "I'm not going to take you on some kind of history tour. I was there during it and to be honest, most of it was awful. Then again, I've never really been able to talk about anything like that with anyone, so maybe I will decide I want to tell a few stories."

Prickly, but Thor understood. This was new ground for both of them.

"You owe me nothing," he said softly. "And though I'd love to know everything, I won't expect it. Do any of these mean chicken?"

Loki still seemed a little suspicious, helping him choose a sandwich. The waitress seemed to find Thor's stumbling pronunciation charming, smiling at him for trying. She said something to Loki and he laughed as he replied. For a moment, everything was very normal.

"What did she say?"

"That I'm cruel to make you speak for yourself. I said preventing that would be the real cruelty."

Thor hoped he meant that. He was consciously trying to tread carefully. 200 years was a long time to have experiences, a lot of potential troubles or even traumas.

Maybe it would be best to stick to the present for now.

"So of you don't have to eat..." Thor said, wondering if he was about to be horribly grossed out. "What happens when you do?"

Loki shrugged.

"I'm no doctor, but I think of my body like an engine. If you put fuel in it, it will burn it. If you don't, it won't."

"But this engine can also be powered without fuel. I mean, you still keep going."

"Mm. I'm clearly a very advanced hybrid. But it just... Works as before more or less. But I never gain weight, never lose it. I'm exactly as I was, as I've always been. If I cut my hair, it regrows overnight. I tried a tattoo once, but it vanished as soon as the moonlight hit. It's a little annoying, but I've just accepted that I will go in and out of fashion over the years."

Though the details might change, Thor couldn't help but think this degree of grace was never fully out.

"So you can eat and drink whatever you want? Lucky."

He tried to imagine being exactly as he was now forever. Beard that he pretended was deliberate but was really a sign that he couldn't be bothered shaving every day. Hair a little longer than he typically had it. Holiday weight. Fingernails in need of a trim.

But only fun workouts forever. All the cake and steak and double cream he could eat. Beer. Sugar in his tea.

"Can you get drunk?"

"Yes. But I sober up immediately at two."

No more hangovers...

"I'm not going to lie, that sounds pretty great," Thor said, genuinely a little jealous.

Loki smiled, but in an odd way. A half smile.

"Some of it is. But I have all the typical immortal issues. Having to reinvent myself every thirty years or so. Having to live in the woods and move back, pretending to be my own relative. Watching everyone I've ever known age and die. I know a lot of people think they would give up anything to never gain another kilo, but it's a high price, believe me."

Yeah. Yeah, fair point.

"Sorry."

Loki shook his head.

"Don't be. I've had my share of grand romances and great loves. I've done far more than my fair share of leaving. Now I'm only looking for fun. No one getting hurt, least of all me."

He winked and Thor tried his best not to think about how awful it must be to never allow emotion to grow even when you wanted it to.


	13. Chapter 13

"So..." Loki said, wiping the grease from cheese and pesto off his fingers and seizing the last leaf from his salad. "What shall we do for the afternoon?"

Thor pretended not to mind particularly. In fact, he wanted to just keep talking. Find out about the day to day complications of being technically dead - leaving a paper trail, managing to disguise the fact that he never actually died over generations, how he got money, how long he'd owned his house.

"We could go exploring, or go back to your place and just hang out..."

They were still a little awkward around one another it seemed. Loki drained his coffee, humming lightly.

"Let's do both. If you're lucky, I'll let you cut my hair before I go to the woods. You'll see when I get back how quickly it regrows."

Thor's paranormal investigator ears pricked up. He didn't want to suggest experimenting on Loki, but on the other hand he'd never get this chance again. What would happen to that cut off hair? Would it vanish? That would be incredible.

He could wait, though. Think it over. Not frighten Lokk away again by being too eager.

Loki paid despite Thor's protest that he could handle his share, and led the way outside into the sunshine.

"I'm going to take you to one of my favourite places," he said. "The Zwinger Palace."

Thor blinked a little.

"The Swinger Palace?"

Loki's laugh almost echoed down the little side street.

"Oh, I'm sure there's a sex club called that somewhere in the world, but no. Zwinger. It means... Like, an enclosure. But it has wonderful museums."

Generally, Thor's only acquaintance with actual antiques was when someone insisted their vase was haunted and surrounded it with salt and made him run tests on it. But he enjoyed pretty things and was more than happy to go to the Old Masters gallery. He paid for Loki's ticket though. It seemed fair.

It was difficult to take in the art with Loki all starry-eyed and gasping, clearly in love with the portraits.

"I should come here more often," he said quietly. "I forget how wonderful it is."

"Have you always been interested in art?"

"Well... It wasn't exactly accessible for the likes of me for most of the time I've been around, but since I was first able to get into collections I've loved it. Especially older stuff. Look at that girl, for example. She'll never get old. She'll never die. She's safely reading her letter forever."

Thor looked carefully at the painting Loki was pointing at, the elegant folds in all the fabrics, the play of light on paper and skin, her slightly worried expression.

"She doesn't look very happy," he said. "I don't think I'd like to feel like that forever."

He was deliberately pretending he had missed the point. He knew Loki liked being in a room of people who would never age, never change. They were like him, almost. But they were frozen in time, not moving through it.

There was a deep sadness there and Thor didn't quite feel he was able to address it. Not yet.

Instead, he tried to find the jolliest faces he could. Admittedly, most of them seemed to be pictures of drunk people.

A huge portrait of Hercules was a particular stand out for Thor. Clearly worse for wear, being held up by a judgey satyr and an exasperated nymph.

"I think I've been all three of these people," he said.

"I sometimes feel like I've been every single person in the gallery. Especially John the Baptist."

Loki chuckled, drawing a finger across his neck. Thor tried his best not to show his discomfort. There was just something... awful about the thought of it.

When he felt the need to wrap an arm around his waist, Loki didn't protest. In fact, he leant into him a little every time they paused in their slow wander down the gallery.

"Sorry," he said softly after a while. "I have a little... You know. My humour is a little wicked."

"I like that about you. But all the same. It's hardly a pleasant thing. I wasn't sure how to react exactly and this... This felt right."

Accepting, but not judgemental was his aim.

Loki set his hand over Thor's where it rested on his hip.

"Feels nice. I don't often get much touching, not like this. One night stands don't exactly count."

"When we're back at yours, maybe I'll play with your hair."

"Mmm..."

And maybe he'd pluck up the courage to ask a few more questions. Subtly, of course.

They must have walked for hours. Thor's stomach rumbled suddenly in front of a particularly fine tryptich, genuinely seeming to startle Loki.

"You need food."

"I'm OK. I can last."

Loki was insistent though. Thor wondered if his only knowledge of hunger was the urgent, aching kind of poverty, rather than the general sense of being ready for dinner that was Thor's experience of it.

"I think I have something in my freezer you can eat," Loki said vaguely. "And tomorrow, we can come back and I'll take you through the mechanical gallery."

Well, he was already planning tomorrow. That had to be a good sign.

"Can I come with you to the woods tonight?"

He asked quietly, practically whispering, trying to give Loki the opportunity to pretend he hadn't heard or something.

The discomfort flitted across Loki's face for just a second as they made their way to the exit, quickly covered with a sly smile.

"Depends how good your hair playing skills are."

He might get a bit more than hair playing. There might be massage or cuddling.

Maybe even spooning.


	14. Chapter 14

Loki didn't have any perishable food in his house. Not so much as a bottle of milk. He had a fridge, but apparently only for emergencies as it wasn't plugged in. The freezer though...

Alright, so it was a little stereotypical to expect sausages in a German's freezer, but this was a truly ridiculous amount of Wursts.

"I make them myself," Loki said, looking over Thor's shoulder. "You can buy machines and the skins for it. Modern ones just aren't right. They don't taste the same."

Thor tried not to worry about what exactly might be in them. Fortunately, there was something that looked like stuffed chicken in there as well. He was probably safer with something more familiar.

Loki didn't feel like eating, and even though Thor knew he didn't have to, he felt a bit of a bother dirtying a plate by himself. Still, Loki seemed to enjoy watching him. Maybe it was odd to see someone eating for the purpose of fuel rather than flavour.

He insisted on washing up afterwards. He was a visitor and being fed. It was the least he could do.

Or he could pay Loki back with touch. It hadn't occurred to him during their sexual encounter, when he'd been just as eager and urgent, but Loki seemed starved of simple physical contact. Little gentle things.

He ended up with Loki's head in his lap, eyes closed, smiling, practically purring as Thor systematically combed through his hair with his fingers, revealing the paper white skin hidden there.

"How long have you owned this house, then?"

"A while. Since they repaired the street after the last war. I've had to leave it a few times, come back pretending to have inherited it. I'm my own grandfather, father, uncle... Used to be much easier. These days, with ID and CCTV and so on, I can only hope they think I'm a criminal with multiple identities rather than a dead man. One of these days, I might have to move out to the woods permanently."

That sounded unpleasant. Loki was clearly cultured and wanted contact with people at least occasionally. Living out there, by himself? It wasn't right.

"You're not really a cop, are you?"

"No. It's a helpful cover in the woods, but I don't do it in town. Don't want to be arrested for impersonating a police officer. I can't exactly spend a night in the cells."

An opening for one of Thor's big questions... He got Loki to roll over, letting him start on the other side of his hair.

"What happens if you're not in the woods?" he asked quietly.

Loki sighed, his breath not even warm where it rushed by Thor's wrist. He seemed warm otherwise. It was a little disconcerting.

"It hurts. It hurts a lot. Believe me, I have tried not being there, but I don't have a choice. Imagine... Imagine the worst fever possible. I sweat. I shake. Everything hurts. Old scars start reopening. And if I wait too long, I... I don't know. I get launched there? I can't explain it, but I end up in the woods, with the horse, head flopping all over the place."

"Like astral projection?"

"I don't know that term."

"Uh... Like, your body stays put, but your mind..."

"No, no. My body is there. Once morning comes, I have to get home by my own devices. Don't ask me how it works. Maybe I sprint all the way, who knows? I'm in too much pain by that point to pay attention."

It sounded awful. Thor's curiosity died in his chest. It was like asking someone to sing, only to find out they had some kind of throat disease that made singing extremely uncomfortable. It wasn't worth it.

"My neighbours think I work nights," Loki said. "Even on weekends. Sometimes I go in a little early. Sometimes I meet handsome men trying to hunt me. But... Yeah, in short, I can't leave Dresden ever. Which is why I love TV and movies so much. Easily one of my favourite inventions. I can't go to far off, beautiful places, but I can see them."

Thor wasn't sure what to say, just kept gently massaging his scalp. Little circles, using both the pads of his fingers and his blunt nails. Loki seemed to cuddle into his thigh a little, rubbing his cheek against his jeans.

"You kissed my neck," he said quietly.

"Mm-hm."

"I never let anyone see it. People would get scared I think. I have clothed sex in the dark and say I'm nervous about my body."

Thor waited, fingers never stopping in their tiny motions.

"Will you do it again? I miss neck kisses."

"Of course. I'd love to."

Loki went a little tense. He seemed to be bracing himself to say something else and so Thor carefully kept his breathing steady.

"I have a lot of scars," Loki said, barely above a whisper. "Lots."

"You were a soldier in the age of swords. And I... I felt them when we were... You know."

His awkwardness broke the tension at least a little, making Loki crack up before sitting, his hair swept to the side from Thor's attentions.

"If you're coming with me to the woods tonight, you'd best get some sleep. So we should go to bed."

That was an invitation if ever Thor heard one.


	15. Chapter 15

The bed was amazing. Loki had wonderful sheets, fresh and crisp, soft. The smelled of expensive fabric softener, well cared for.

Thor was determined to let Loki set the pace. If it had been a long time since he'd revealed his body to anyone, he was bound to be nervous. They could start with kisses, touching outside of clothes, maybe a bold hand sliding beneath Loki's shirt.

After a few minutes, Loki seemed to brace himself, sat up and tugged it off, eyes downcast and teeth clenched.

It was difficult not to stare. Yes, because Loki had a number of scars, some of them very large, but also because wow, lean muscles, that waist, those nipples...

He'd get to those later, but he'd promised more neck kisses first.

Loki sighed and melted against him, letting Thor ease him back down among the pillows and kiss his way from one side to the other along the smooth line of his scar, paying particular attention to the soft skin just below his ears and then nibbled gently on a lobe, making Loki practically convulse.

Interesting.

Thor had dated a girl once who loved it when he touched her ears. Really loved it. And so he tried it on every person he fooled around with, to varying degrees on confusion on their part. But it seemed Loki shared that particular predilection.

Or maybe pretty much everything felt good to him.

He moaned shamelessly when Thor brought a hand up to one nipple, not even doing it properly really as he was trying to concentrate on keeping the kisses going.

If he healed immediately overnight then leaving a hickey or two shouldn't be a problem. Especially as Loki reacted very well to him going a little rougher, panting and arching his back.

How long had it been since someone had really taken their time over him? Since someone had really tried to please him and not just themselves?

Quite a while if the way Loki's suddenly shoved Thor over, whining against his lips as he rode his thigh, shameless and wonderful, scars and all.

He seemed embarrassed after he spilled in his clothes, hiding his face against Thor's neck for several minutes before rousing himself and starting to move down his body.

"Oh," Thor said. "Oh, you don't have to do that."

"I got mine."

Thor swallowed hard. He'd been trying not to think about the fact that he had literally seen Loki holding his head, had seen it fall off, and disturbing images of a detached head going down on him were not helping him stay in the moment...

"I actually don't like oral," he lied.

Loki looked up at him from above his just-popped fly button and raised an eyebrow. Thor practically held his breath, hoping his terrible lie wasn't about to ruin everything.

He didn't say anything, but Thor could see the hurt of rejection in his eyes as he freed his slightly flagging erection, stroking him back to full hardness with a few twists of his wrist.

"I'm very good at it, you know," he said, hand still moving. "I never have to stop to breathe. And I don't choke if that's what puts you off."

He couldn't decide if that helped or hindered and decided to pretend he hadn't heard.

"That's nice... Mmm..."

He heard Loki's sigh and knew there was absolutely no way he was going to get off like this.

"Come kiss me?"

He shimmied out of his jeans as Loki made his way back up the bed, pulling him close, trying to keep his mind quiet and only listen to his body. His hands, for example, were making very good points about Loki having really nice skin and interesting angles. His legs were raising a motion to try wrapping around him, if only there wasn't fabric in the way, his mouth had taken something of a leave of absence to be occupied with kissing and his cock...

Well, Loki's hand was really helping it along.

Sexy thoughts. Live in the moment. Enjoy the...

"Oh, fuck..."

The awkwardness was not going away, even after he came all over Loki's skin.

They lay there for a while, gently stroking each other but neither ready to break the silence until Loki took a sledgehammer to it.

"It's because my head comes off, isn't it?"


	16. Chapter 16

"What?" Thor tried. "No!"

"Thor, I'm over 230 years old. I most definitely wasn't born yesterday."

Thor sighed, rubbing his face. He felt awful, but he just couldn't help but think of it.

"Sorry. It freaked me out a bit. Not that... Not that you're a freak."

"I am, though. I know it, you know it... But that's the first time I've had someone ask me not to deepthroat them."

Yeah, and no wonder. If Thor didn't know the truth, he'd have been absolutely on board with that idea. But it was hard to forget what he had seen. What he'd see again tonight probably.

"This was meant to relax us," Loki said vaguely. "You'll need some sleep if you're coming out into the woods with me."

They'd suddenly gone back to 'if'. Could he save this? After all, it wasn't Loki's fault. He couldn't help how he was. And now he had to be feeling rejected and unattractive and wrong... And that wasn't true, he was incredible, it was just that one act was setting off some unpleasant images. Thor rolled over, slipping his arm under Loki's neck and easing him into the classic spoon.

"It has relaxed me. It did. And I'd love to snuggle up to you while I nap."

"Well, wait a second..."

Loki finally undressed fully, kicking his trousers off and pulling the blanket over them both, moving Thor's hand over his chest.

"You're right," he said softly. "We can deal with this later. I'd love to do that with you, but if it's not something you want that's fine. You've been very accommodating to me so far."

His language and tone had gone a little too formal for Thor's liking. Oh, he'd made things so awkward. How could he fix them?

Holiday flings were not meant to be hard work. They were meant to be carefree and fun and to ruin all future serious relationships due to their artificially effortless nature.

He made sure they were skin to skin as much as he could, laying a kiss to Loki's shoulder.

"Thank you for understanding."

There was absolutely no way he was going to get to sleep. His cringe was too strong.

Everyone always expected him to have men and women falling at his feet, and sure, people thought he was hot, but then he'd manage to open his mouth and say something all wrong every damn time.

Maybe he should try not to talk so much.

It turned out that no amount of emotional discomfort could distract his body from being warm and comfortable and sated for suddenly Loki was shaking him awake.

"It takes a good 40 minutes to drive it," he said. "So we should set off now to get there by the time the moon is up. So you want to cut my hair or anything?"

He'd even brought scissors. Thor hurriedly got dressed first, a little sticky from their afternoon activities, and carefully snipped off a lock from near the front.

"Oh, come on. You can take more than that."

Thor tried not to look worried as Loki hacked off a handful, rough and uncaring. Even though he trusted it would come back, it seemed too violent.

Maybe he wasn't as prepared for this as he thought.

He'd never spoken to a ghost before. Never been aware of all their problems. And though he always said things like "Well, they're just people, there's nothing to be scared of," actually being there, watching Loki do this for him, it made him uneasy.

He studied ghosts. And, yes, he loved them, but in the abstract way an ornithologist loved birds. As beautiful, complex creatures, not as someone he had a personal relationship with.

All the same, he couldn't deny being a queasy mix excited and nervous as Loki started driving out of town. He'd put the hair in a plastic bag to see if anything happened to it in the moonlight.

"Will you look after my head?"

"I... What?"

"Well, normally I leave it in the car. It's a nightmare to keep on, and I'm always worried about someone seeing my face and recognising me from being around. And Hottehü gets upset if I don't ride him for too many days in a row."

Thor tried to make that last sentence make sense.

"Hot... What, sorry?"

"Oh, Hottehü. It's my horse's name. It's... Like, a child's way of saying horse."

There was something incredibly charming about knowing the spectral horse was effectively called Mr Giddy-Up.

"That's a sweet name."

"Yeah. I let my little brother Byleister name him. Should have seen that one coming."

Of course it made sense that Loki had had a family, but Thor still felt a little shocked. And he didn't feel like he could ask anything about them. After all, if Loki was over two hundred, they had to be long dead.

"Sure," he said instead. "I'll hold your head. But can I come and meet, er... Hottenhoo?"

"Hottehü. Of course. He likes people. Doesn't meet very many, only having a body for one hour a night. You'll like him. He's much closer to classic ghost than I am."

At any other point, Thor would be thrilled to be soon to meet an undead animal.

But all he could think about now was a little boy naming his big brother's horse and waving as he rode away, unknowing, to his untimely death.


	17. Chapter 17

It was strange, stopping in the dark. And Thor had started to be concerned about something, a question that had been rolling around his brain since he first learned the truth.

"Your head only comes off in moonlight..."

"Yeah."

"What happens if your body isn't in moonlight anymore but your head is off? Does it... heal over or something?"

"I'm honestly not sure. I've never looked. It might heal. Might bleed. I don't know. We can check it out though, if you'd like."

It took a while for Thor to realise it, but he was afraid. Really, genuinely afraid. There was a huge gap between seeing a headless horseman in theory and watching Loki taking his head off again. Seeing an idea and seeing a friend were very different things. What if he said or did something wrong?

Deep breaths. This was part of who Loki was. Alright, so it frightened a very primal part of him that instinctively said seeing inside a body was bad, but it was OK. He knew it was OK. He didn't have to listen to that part of his hind brain.

For a start, Loki was probably terrified too. It was a big step, showing someone. Exposed and vulnerable.

Oh, God, that was the moon...

"Are you sure you can handle this, ghost hunter?"

Thor braced himself. It was like taking a plaster off, or putting a glass over a spider. Scary at first, but ultimately necessary.

"Of course."

"Then for the sake of science, I guess you'd better get out of the car and look at me."

Clunk-clunk, bang. Thor turned around after closing his door, blinking a little to get used to the pale glow, and stared as Loki stood in the shadow of a tree and unbuttoned the top of his shirt before stepping into the light.

The white scar became red immediately. His butchered hair grew back in strange jerking spurts. And he seemed strangely gaunt. There was a faintly grey tinge to his skin. He definitely wasn't... Wasn't alive. But there was still doubt in Thor's mind, something uncanny that he couldn't quite figure out.

Thor had never seen a corpse before. Not as such. He'd seen pictures, yes, but that was all, never in person. Loki didn't look like a corpse, not entirely. That's what was confusing him. It was his eyes. They were too bright, too sharp. Too present. An obvious sign of consciousness.

"Still OK?" Loki asked, his voice sounding more strained that before. Then again, his throat wasn't fully attached anymore.

To Thor's surprise, he was, broadly. His curiosity was stronger than his fear.

"Can I touch you?" he asked. "It's fine if you'd rather I didn't."

Loki shrugged one shoulder and had to grab his head to keep it in place. It was almost funny.

He was so cold beneath Thor's fingers. Freezing. His skin did not seem to have the same elasticity, but instead was like wet crepe paper, or clay. Nearly malleable. Lips pressed together, Thor was bold enough to touch the line where head met neck with the lightest of feather touches...

Loki hissed as though in pain.

"Sorry. I didn't know it would hurt."

"It's... No, it didn't, but it feels weird. Like... I don't know. Strange."

His lips were pale enough to be almost invisible, so different to the pink they were in the day time. And he seemed so worried. So frightened.

At any other time, Thor would want to kiss him and reassure him, but despite his intellectual resolutions, some part of his mind couldn't or wouldn't stop telling him that this was not something to put his mouth on.

Ugh, shut up, brain. This was Loki. The same funny guy who'd teased him when they first met in the woods, who had been a son and a brother and who refused to be emotional because he didn't want to get hurt. It was still him. And if he wanted to kiss him in the day, he could learn to kiss him at night.

Thor cupped Loki's cheek as gently and carefully as possible. He ran his thumb over the place where it looked like a blush would never bloom again and leant in.

It was like kissing a cold pack. Soft, but icy. And this was a step far enough for the moment. He wasn't ready to part his lips just yet.

When he drew back, Loki's eyes were closed. They fluttered open, like Snow White waking from her dead sleep. They stared at each other for a moment, Thor breathing, Loki not. When he did inhale, it was with a faint rattle.

"I'm afraid it's pretty boring until Hottehü appears at two," he said. "I usually bring a book."

"How do you turn the pages?"

"How do you mean?"

"You don't hold the book in one hand and your head in the other?"

Loki laughed, a strange sound, too much air and not enough actual sound.

"No, I just leave my head on. I just have to keep still in the moonlight to avoid dropping it, that's all. Can we get back in the car? I feel weird talking like this."

It was still weird, Thor couldn't deny it. The relatively shadowy environment made Loki look and sound normal except when his hands passed through the light, suddenly grey and claw-like. His nails seemed longer somehow.

Thor desperately tried to think of something to do to pass the time.

Wasn't like they could play I Spy in the dark, after all.

Oh, he was going to have to do it...

"Tell me about your family?"

Loki was quiet for a moment.

"Seriously?"

"Well... if I hadn't been able to talk about my folks for centuries, I might want to. Or might not. Up to you."

Another pause and then Loki reached over and took his hand, squeezing lightly.

"Yeah. It's been a long time. I think I'd like that."


	18. Chapter 18

"I was the second son of five surviving children. Three boys, two girls. Small family for the time really. I was sixteen when I enlisted in the cavalry. It seemed like the right thing to do. My older brother, Helblindi, was going to inherit what little land we had. My sisters would get married. I was fit and healthy, relatively speaking. I would get my independence and stop being another mouth to feed for the cost of a colt. And, well... I'd noticed that I was far more interested in my neighbour's son than his daughter. I thought I could spare my family the shame."

Thor knew how lucky he was to live in the place and time he did with the family he had. He could barely imagine how much Loki may have struggled. Ironically, the whole ghost thing had caused him far more issues than being bisexual ever had.

"I'm sorry you felt that way," he said, knowing it wasn't enough.

"Honestly, leaving home was exciting. Most people never even saw beyond the next village and suddenly I was part of a cavalry regiment, travelling to other countries even. But leaving my family wasn't as easy as I thought it might be. Especially Byleister. I was eleven when he was born, though there were others between us. And he... He got every disease going. Polio, scarlet fever, poxes. But he got through them all. I used to call him mein Recke. It means... Like, Fighter."

"And he named your horse."

"Yeah. And it was a joke, in his five-year-old head. I used to carry him around so he used to called me Hottehü. I was his horse and then he named mine."

The way he spoke about him... Smiling. Laughing softly to himself. Squeezing Thor's hand from time to time. Such good memories, but Thor was terrified of when he'd have to come thumping back down to earth.

"Were they from around here?" he asked, trying to delay that.

"Yes, actually. I was planning to try to visit them while I was here after the battle was over, but, well... Lost my head, as you say."

"You never saw them again?"

"From afar. And on visits when I was alive. I saw my sisters get married. My parents' funerals. And... And I went to see By when he was old. I shouldn't have, but I needed to know if he'd been happy. Told his granddaughter I was a distant cousin passing through."

"How was he?"

Loki sighed.

"Mostly blind. Mostly deaf. Mostly couldn't move. But he was so happy. He'd married a good woman. Had wonderful children and grandchildren. They looked after him. But, of course, he freaked out at the sense that his long dead brother had come to get him. The girl told me he got like that sometimes, convinced he was talking to people who were long gone. It felt awful to let her think that."

"But he was happy?"

"He had a great life. Lived much longer than I did. And he got everything I hoped he would. But after he died, all the grandchildren moved away one by one. I lost track of them completely."

Thor swallowed hard before asking the obvious question.

"When was that?"

"Uh... Well... Er war sechzig also... Some time around 1855 I'd guess. I wasn't paying much attention to the years back then. They didn't seem to matter so much. Besides, I was normal in terms of age. Everyone said they were thirty for fifteen years at a time because no one knew their birthday precisely."

He was trying to make light of it, trying to make a joke. Thor couldn't tell if he'd found their discussion upsetting or cathartic. Maybe both.

"Anyway..." Loki said. "Better go meet my horsey."

As they got out of the car, the air was noticeably cold and getting colder. Loki held onto his head and led the way up the path.

Hottehü was pawing the ground, snorting. His head swayed from side to side as they approached, Loki saying something soothing to him in German.

"I won't be able to talk once I'm... separated. Promise you're fine with this?"

Somehow having a horse with glowing eyes in front of him and a man looking at him cautiously and yet being the only one with visible breath had calmed him down. There was nothing to be afraid of. He stepped closer and cautiously laid his hands on Loki's head, lifting gently.

There was a faintly wet sound, like someone opening their mouth right next to a sensitive microphone and then Thor was holding a head that was smiling encouragingly at him in a slightly incongruous manner.

Thor didn't have much experience of babies, but what little he did have included never being sure how to turn them round once holding them. As well as the risk of dropping them, he was always scared he'd put pressure in the wrong place and hurt them accidentally.

And now he had mostly face to try to manoeuvre.

"I, er... How do I...?"

Loki rolled his eyes and his body reached out, rotating him with practised ease and putting him back in Thor's hands facing outwards.

"Thank you."

He would never again see something as strange as a body swinging its way up into a saddle with no brain to control it. Especially since at the same time, with such grace and style, it seemed like the most natural thing in the world.


	19. Chapter 19

Hottehü reared, as if he knew how dramatic it would look, the headless rider on his spectral horse.

"Wow," Thor said, unsure what else to say.

There was a strange clicking sound which he eventually identified at Loki snapping his jaw, trying to get his attention.

"Sorry. Do you want up?"

More snapping.

Well, he probably never got the chance to see himself ride, to see how impressive it was. Thor didn't know just how high to lift him and eventually put him on his shoulder in the classic boombox position. Or like a parrot, maybe. A parrot he was effectively cradling with one hand. And that might leave a little bloodstain on his jacket.

Loki headbutted him softly in the side of his head until he turned, getting into the right position to receive a gentle if chilly kiss on the cheek. It was so sweet that Thor couldn't help but grin. Monstrous and terrifying, yes, but beneath that was still the man Loki had been. A man who cared about his brother and wanted human contact.

And apparently was really good at riding.

"Do you control your body or is it independent?" Thor asked, before realising that yes/no questions were probably going to be easier. "You control it, right?"

One jaw click. One for yes, two for no. Made sense.

"It's very impressive."

That seemed to be his cue to be truly amazed. Maybe it had been a skill Loki had developed over the last 200 years, or maybe the Prussian army had put great store into dressage because the great charger was able to perform complex dances, crossing his legs, trotting with high feet. Hottehü seemed very calm about the whole thing, although eventually he seemed to insist on galloping off, past the spot Thor had chosen to leave his cameras.

Maybe he always wanted to go that way. Perhaps it had some kind of significance.

Thor wondered what the horse's life was like. Loki said he only had a body for an hour a night. Was it like a dream, then? Did he realise what had happened to them? Was this better than living as an army horse, always under fire and stress?

"He's beautiful."

Another little head nudge. A thank you? Possibly. Or an outraged "He's beautiful? What about me?"

In time, Loki wheeled Hottehü close and dismounted, holding his arms out for his head and grunting slightly as he put it back into place.

"You can touch him. Even if he bites, I doubt it will hurt you."

Thor elected to hold his hand out and let the creature come to him instead. He wasn't sure if Hottehü even could physically smell him, but he snuffled cold air at him, goosebumps blooming on his skin.

Was he a solid horse? Thor certainly thought so. After all, it didn't make sense for Loki to be supported by something that wasn't really there. Or wasn't on the same plane of existence or whatever.

"Where does he go the rest of the time?" he asked. "When he's not solid?"

"Watch. He'll be tired soon."

Soon enough, Hottehü began to make his way back through the woods, to a point on a low ridge where he stood still before appearing to melt into the ground. Like a curtain falling. A shape suddenly gone. As if he'd never been there at all.

"I think his bones are down there," Loki said. "But I haven't felt the need to dig it. It's been nice to have something constant over the years. Him and the trees."

It sounded painfully lonely, but Thor wasn't about to say that out loud.

"You must be tired," Loki said suddenly. "There's a blanket in the back of the car. I don't get cold as such, but I like being warm."

Thor got the feeling he wasn't going to be asked if he was actually needing sleep or not. And he wasn't going to ask to see the cross from moonlight to shade now. Loki seemed melancholy. Like he needed to be alone.

Even if Thor didn't feel he ought to have to be alone ever again. That wasn't his decision.

Besides, he was probably used to it. And what a bitter thought that was.

He accepted the keys and made his way back to the car, clunking its locks open and finding a fluffy, if slightly moth-eaten blanket in the boot.

Out in the dark, he watched as Loki took off his head, ran his hand through his new hair and tucked it under his arm before seeming to sigh - or at least that's how he interpreted that slight slump in his shoulders - and vanishing into the trees.

A walk on his own. Getting some fresh air - as people who actually needed to breathe said.

Thor wished there was something he could do, something he could say. But what could you say to someone so old, who had seen so much? Who would see so much more?

Who knew he would be alone so much longer than he could possibly be with someone else...

Even in the depths of Thor's self-pity about how sure he was to die alone, he'd never imagined being forever alone _forever..._

Poor lost soul, out by the lost streams.

Oddly enough, it took Thor a long time to fall asleep.


	20. Chapter 20

Thor woke when Loki started the engine, the first glimmers of dawn making the trees cast shadows all across the ground and dappling the light.

"Go back to sleep. It's probably not gone five yet."

"Mmph... Seat belt."

He sat up and buckled in, blanket still tangled around him, fighting through the clinging grip of sleep to pay attention to what Loki was saying.

"You can nap and shower at my place and then I'll drop you back at the hostel and you can enjoy the rest of your holiday."

It took a while to sink in. He was being... dumped to all intents and purposes. After that night, when Loki had kissed him so softly, when he had been brave enough to show himself? It didn't make sense. Unless he'd been offended by Thor's reaction...

"Did I do something wrong?"

Loki glanced at him in the rear-view mirror and then looked away.

"You just made me think. It's not your fault. Honestly, it's not."

"I made you think?"

A deep sigh, one full of pain and hurt.

"About things I cannot have. You're waking up old dreams. Things that should stay sleeping. Much like you. Go back to sleep."

Thor was too awake now. Too distressed, needed to know what crime he had committed to be banished like this.

"What dreams?" he asked.

For a moment, he thought Loki wouldn't respond and even when he did, it was quiet.

"I used to fantasise about having someone who knew what I was and accepted it. A companion. But it can't be like that."

"Why not?"

"Because even if someone wanted to spend the rest of their life with me, I can't spend the rest of my life with them. There is no rest of my life. There's just this. I'd rather save myself the pain."

Was he saying what Thor thought he was? That he wanted to say goodbye now instead of enjoying themselves in the time they had? It seemed ridiculous. Surely a good thing was a good thing and if nothing else, a future happy memory?

"You know, we have a saying in English - tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all."

"You don't have a monopoly, you know. We have proverbs in German too. Bedenke das Ende - think of the end."

"You're a really optimistic people, aren't you?"

Loki laughed, hollow and harsh.

"I'm being realistic. Even if we were just friends and you came to visit sometimes, eventually you would get old and die and I would be alone again."

"So it's better to be alone even faster? That hardly makes sense."

"The longer you wait, the worse it becomes."

"But by that logic, no one would have friends at all in case they died. People would break off all contact from their families, especially older members. Sometimes good things are worth the pain."

Loki pulled over to the side of the road rather violently, and Thor was glad they hadn't hit any real traffic yet. He wasn't convinced there'd been so much as a mirror glance, let alone a signal.

"Do you think you're the first?" Loki spat, turning round in his seat. "Do you think I've never had friends or lovers before? I've loved and lost more people than you've ever known. And it never gets any easier. Ever."

Thor didn't his best to take a breath, but he'd never been particularly good at not speaking his mind and he found the words escaping before he'd thought them over properly.

"Does the loneliness get easier?"

For a moment, he thought Loki was going to slap him, but instead he just slumped. He looked so tired, for all that wasn't possible. As old as he was, not as old as he looked.

"The loneliness becomes more normal," he said bitterly, eyes down. "A dull ache is easier to ignore than a sharp stab."

Automatically, Thor wanted to cup his face, simple touch, but Loki flinched away.

"I should have just left you alone with your barometers," he said bitterly. "Now you know what I am, you'll never let me be."

Thor wondered if he should protest. After all, he had been the one to offer Loki separation only a day ago - and had it really only been that long? - so he ought to honour that. But at the same time, a candle in the dark was surely a joy, no matter how quickly it was extinguished. He ought to fight for this friendship. But that wasn't his decision to make alone.

"If you want me to go, I'll go," he said softly. "But I dearly want to be your friend. If you honestly want me gone, at least let me give you my address and my number. Just in case you want to get in touch later. But if you're not absolutely sure, then please think about it. Please."

He wasn't sure if he was winning until Loki reached back and took his hand.

"I'm scared," he whispered. "Because I like you, but I can already sense time bearing down..."

"Let's not think about that," Thor said. "Think about it as just a week. Just a little fun, like you said. The future is its own problem and you shouldn't be tied up by it."

Loki looked away again, blinking in the bright yellow light of the risen sun.

"Come take a shower," he said. "And I'll decide what I want while you do. If I can."

At least he wasn't withdrawing right away while Thor squeezed his fingers gently.

That gave him at least a little hope.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's July? And I'm a thousand years behind on reading other people's fics but please enjoy this poorly edited chapter and I will get to them later I promise.

Thor had never had a tense shower before. He'd had hungover showers and worried showers and sad showers, but never one where he was trying to massage his own shoulders and not only in an effort to get rid of a little stiffness from curling himself up in the back of Loki's car.

Nice shower though. Brass fittings, beyond vintage, but very clean and with a collection of shower gels in a myriad of scents. Thor went with coconut. Maybe smelling nice would help his cause.

Speaking of which, the rich aroma of fresh coffee floated through to him as he dressed, scooping his hair up into a damp, messy bun. Was that for him? Was there any left he could have?

Loki was painfully handsome, a silhouetted profile in the kitchen window, steam rising from his mug. Never aging. Never changing. Never loving. Never having someone to share it with.

Painful was the right word.

He turned as Thor entered, jaw set.

"Sugar? Milk?"

"Oh, uh... Just black, thank you."

"I don't even have milk. I don't know why I asked."

"Probably because you're as nervous as I am."

As if to confirm that, Loki took a large sip, delicately kissing the brim of his cup. Thor stood awkwardly, unsure whether he was supposed to sit down or what...

"I've been thinking," Loki said. "While you were showering. And I can't promise not to change my mind, but... Maybe you're right."

About what? That could mean so many things. That he was right that they should enjoy what time they had? Or that he was right that the loneliness hurt, but Loki had decides not to risk his heart again?

"You're different from the others. That sounds cliched, but it's true. You know what I am, so I won't have to hurt you by running away. That was always the worst part. Knowing that they were out there somewhere, thinking badly of me. Hating me, even. But this... This friendship must be just that. No romance. I don't get to have boyfriends and meet their parents or all those normal things."

Thor couldn't help but be a little disappointed. Whatever hang ups or misgivings he had had about certain acts, he had enjoyed most. Kissing especially. He had really liked that.

But now he wasn't sure if he ought to ask for that.

What if Loki thought he had some kind of... ghost fetish?

He didn't. Not at all. He'd like Loki just as much if he was alive.

But he probably shouldn't phrase it like that...

"Say something," Loki muttered, staring into the murky depths of his coffee.

"I... I'm glad you still want to be my friend."

Loki sat back, eyes shut, knuckles white around the cup's handle.

"But?" he said. "Go on."

It would be dishonest not to speak up. Honesty was important between friends.

"I understand why you don't want a relationship," Thor said carefully. "But I've really liked... This. Being close with you. And I'd like that to continue while I'm here, if you'd like it too. But it's not a... a deal-breaker or anything."

Surprisingly eloquent. His muddled thoughts actually seemed to make vague sense when he got them out.

He watched Loki open his eyes and wondered what his reaction would be. Friends who smooched and... and maybe more wasn't a relationship, after all. Fun. Disposable. No strings other than the hearty rope of friendship.

That was a weird way of putting it.

And when he went home, he'd tell Sif about how he'd made a friend in Germany and they could call or write or whatever. It would be great.

He hoped.

If Loki ever responded.


	22. Chapter 22

He could see the emotions warring on Loki's face. His desire for acceptance and physical affection battling his fear of becoming overly attached. The risk of a simple friendship being compromised by sexuality, but at the same time an opportunity for something he had wanted so long.

But it was up to him. Thor wasn't going to push. At least, he would try not to.

Thinking you'd managed to mess someone up for life got a whole lot worse when it involved someone who'd potentially live forever.

"This is probably one of my last chances," Loki said softly, almost like a thought had somehow escaped without permission.

"How do you mean?"

"Well... It's hard enough to be with other people now. When I have to give up my identity, it will become impossible. Would you have a one-night stand with a strange man in the woods?"

The bitterness in his voice was clear. The loneliness of centuries stretching out before him. And yet, Thor felt he couldn't allow such wallowing.

"Maybe you won't have to give up completely. I mean..."

"Thor. I used to just swan into town and move right back into my house with money from whatever day job I had stitched into the mattress. Now it's all bank transfer. Proof of ID. Death certificates signed by traceable doctors. It's getting harder and harder and I'm tired. Maybe that's what happens to all of us. We get to a point where we only haunt the right place and revert to just moans and shrieks. I might just sleep for the rest of time. It will be peaceful."

Try as he might, no solution presented itself immediately. Loki was right. Life must be hard for the dead. And short of revealing himself to the authorities, changing myth to fact and theory to reality, there wasn't much to be done.

Unless he found out what his unfinished business was and completed it and then...

No. Thor couldn't bear thinking about that.

Loki sighed, raking a hand through his hair.

"I don't mean to be so difficult," he murmured.

"You're not. You're just... aware of the difficulties."

"And that's different, I suppose?"

It seemed like a rhetorical question so Thor finally took a swig of coffee. Rich and complex stuff, expensive. Bitter with it, but in a nice way somehow.

Loki drummed his fingertips silently against his table and stood up with a loud scrape of chair.

"You have to accept me as I am," he said. "With all the heaviness that comes with that. You think I'm human, but I'm not. Or... Or I'm not mortal anyway. And I know that's hard for you."

"Last night made it easier..."

A hand in the air. He wasn't finished.

"You were disgusted by the idea of certain acts. And that's OK. But you must be honest with me. Don't try to spare my feelings. I can handle it. And I'm still not sure I want any of that, but I do like talking to you and being held so... So let's start there and see where we end up."

That was fair. More than fair.

Or so Thor told himself.

"Can I stay here?" he asked in a moment of bravery. "I'll clean up after myself. And I'll feel better about all my equipment being safe in a house rather than a hostel room."

Night cuddles went carefully unmentioned. He knew not to push his luck too soon. And he tried not to look too desperate while Loki thought about it.

"I can sleep on your couch if that's easier..."

Loki snorted.

"Of course, that makes sense. The one of us who actually needs sleep taking the least comfortable place. You can stay here, but if you get too clingy, I'll just stay up. It's not a problem."

Internally, Thor hoped he'd just roll into sleepy embraces and half-awake kisses, soft and gentle in the dawn.

"What do you propose for the rest of the time?" Loki asked. "I'm more than happy to keep playing tour guide, but maybe..."

He trailed off. Maybe what? Was he going to finish that thought?

"Never mind," Loki said.

Thor drained his cup, pretending that hadn't been awkward.

"I'd love to see more of Dresden," he said. "And I'd love you to show me it."

Before he knew it, Loki was laying out books in front of him, showing him a mixture of how things were and how they used to be, the blend of colour photos and woodcuts telling story after story of destruction and rebuilding. There were dozens of museums and buildings and gardens to be explored, but they all looked interesting and Thor knew he was being horribly indecisive.

"You choose," he said eventually. "You know it better than I ever could. Pick what you like and I'm sure I'll like it too."

"But do you like art or nature or..."

"Well, I like history, but I don't want you to feel pressured into telling me stuff."

Loki planted a finger against his lips, a playful but intimate gesture that made Thor's heart thump loudly against his chest, probably going a little pink as he resisted the urge to kiss or lick it.

"I'll worry about pressure," he said. "Don't second guess anything because of that. You're on holiday and we're going to see the big sights. You concentrate on how to convince the hostel people that you're not at risk of harm from the stranger you're going to stay with."

"Oh, I'm sure they see it all the time. One night stand leads to two leads to a whole week. They'll probably tell me to stay safe, but they'll mean something a bit different to what you're talking about."

Then it was Loki's turn to go a little pink.

Which was only fair, Thor thought.


	23. Chapter 23

Loki even went with him to help carry his stuff, even though he'd managed to get it on a plane and could clearly manage it by himself. But then he spoke to the staff in German, evidently charming them so that they wouldn't worry too much about their strange visitor.

And Thor deciding he was going to pay enough to last to the end of the week probably didn't hurt.

He dumped his bags at Loki's, protesting that he didn't need his laundry done even as Loki put the machine on, but secretly pleased to see their clothes going round together, tangled up and wet.

He was such a loser, getting hot and bothered thinking about spin cycles.

Then again, their underwear might be touching in there!

He'd have to wait and find out when they got out the drying racks, as Loki had decided to fulfil his promise of taking him back to the other exhibits in the Zwinger Palace.

And they were fabulous. They were. But it was the names of the exhibitions that got to Thor.

"Stop giggling," Loki hissed.

"Sorry. I can't help it. The Universe of Globes..."

"Well, the universe is full of globes! Admittedly, not Earths, but still."

There was just something about it that Thor found funny, that was all. He couldn't even explain it. Wasn't like it was accidentally rude or anything, not like the double take he did any time someone walked by talking about Kunst.

And it only got worse, or possibly better.

He snorted at "The Cosmos of the Prince." Why? Who knew? He was giddy somehow. And being in such opulent surroundings, surrounded by beautiful objects, it appealed to something irreverent in his soul.

Which was not to say that the things they were looking at weren't stunning. Mechanical and useful, but from the time when if anything could be made in gold, it would be. And the chandeliers weren't helping him imagine someone actually using gold-plated telescopes.

"I always wonder how confused archaeologists will be about this stuff," he said. "So pretty. They'll think they're religious or something."

"Maybe they were, or just about. Think about planets and then your rule about only believing your own eyes. You know Jupiter exists, with all those moons, but have you ever actually seen it? And yet someone built this machine that not only lets you look at it, but if you know the... Uh... The lens distance?"

High school physics vaguely called to Thor from the mists of forgotten knowledge.

"Focal length?"

"Might be. Anyway, if you know it, then you can even calculate how far Jupiter is from you. What a miracle."

Thor found himself thinking about all the technology Loki had seen in its early days. Telegraph. Telephone. Radio. Television. Internet. Wireless. Amazing.

"What invention had the biggest influence, do you think?" he asked.

"Depends what you mean by influence. But I suppose... The first time I realised the world was changing possibly irreversibly was probably the first time I rode a train."

He was half smiling at the memory, like it was a bit of childhood silliness.

"Of course, there were lots of experimental engines. I liked the one with the legs. It pushed itself along, like a big robot. Inefficient, though. And then when they had found the best design, there was all this concern about moving at speed and frightening cows so much that their milk would go bad. They thought scenery going too fast would make people blind. Luckily not, huh?"

"Yeah, definitely."

He could see Loki's face reflected in the glass cabinets, the way his eyes were shining.

"And now we have high speed rail even. I spent one hour of a summer's afternoon in Paris a few years ago. Left before six in the morning, back just before midnight, barely 40 minutes outside of the station. The woman in the ticket office thought I had made some kind of terrible mistake. All I did was take a taxi to the Bastille and walk back. Just to I could say I've been there."

"And how was it?"

"Well, it was raining, but worth it. I just wish it didn't take so long. Then again, in my day, that was over a week of travel so I suppose I shouldn't complain too much. And maybe soon enough it might get even faster."

"I mean... You do know about planes?"

"Two hours of security is two hours I could be moving. And I like trains. You get to see so much more from a train window. Fields and buildings and so on. Better than just seeing clouds."

Thor found himself feeling a little guilty about how free he was. Right now, he was miles from home just because he'd decided to be.

Then again, Loki could afford to take a daytrip for hundreds of euros if he wanted to. Typical that their two abilities wouldn't intersect.

Loki didn't enjoy The Course of Time exhibit. All the ticking clocks, the sense of seconds and minutes and hours drifting away. It struck Thor how differently they experienced that fear. He didn't have nearly enough time, age and then death breathing down his neck. Loki had all the time in the world, but couldn't do the things he wanted. Couldn't leave.

It was probably fortunate that he had died somewhere with so much to do in it. Being stuck somewhere with no transport links or isolated generally would have worn him down decades ago perhaps. He needed stimulation. What could be worse for him than being bored for years on end? No, Loki was the kind of person who needed at least a bit of fun and excitement in his days.

Maybe Thor circled them away from the clocks and round to other instruments a little quicker than he would have if he'd been alone. He liked listening to Loki's explanations, his translations of the information boards.

And it was fun to be able to teach him some things in turn. Air pressure instruments that were the precursors to his own were exactly in his wheelhouse, even if these were a lot bigger and fancier.

And once again, he didn't realise how hungry he was until he stepped out of the museum and his stomach decided to make itself known.

"Let me take you out to dinner," he said.

Loki raised an eyebrow at him.

"No dates," he said firmly. "I thought we agreed. No romance."

"As a friend!" Thor insisted.

It was pretty clear that Loki didn't completely believe him, even as they made their way side by side towards more commercial streets.

To be fair, he probably wouldn't have believed himself either.


	24. Chapter 24

"You have no idea how much better food is now," Loki said, wiping a little ketchup from his lips. "Everything used to be bland or salted beyond recognition."

"It's the sugar," Thor said. "And now we're all addicted to it. You're lucky, you can eat anything you want without the spectre of type two diabetes hovering over you."

"It's not just that. Better and predictable cooking techniques and spices being readily available. Trust me, cloves used to be the very thing for every dish and they're just so pungent... Anyway, even if I was affected, I probably wouldn't listen to those health warnings. Heard too many of them over the years."

"You sound like my dad. I keep trying to sneak a little lettuce into his life, but he won't have it. Says it's basically water pretending to be food."

Loki half laughed, a little snort almost, and Thor wasn't sure who at, him or his father.

"So your parents are still together?" he asked.

"Mm. Yeah. Must be... Ooh, 32 years of marriage now? My mum has the patience of a saint, that's the only reason. And I suppose neither of them ever fell in love with anyone else."

"I've had affairs with a few too many married men to have any kind of romanticism about the concept, but good for them all the same."

The question of how many men Loki had been with over the years stuck in Thor's throat. How to word it without sounding jealous? He wasn't, he was just... curious. After all, two centuries was a long time to meet people in. And he preferred one-nighters for safety rather than long term things. There might be hundreds. Thousands. And that was his business, of course.

"Were they closeted?" he asked instead.

"Well, a lot of people were at various points. Not everyone, of course. There's a temptation to think of progress as a simple straight line from then to now, but there have been more fluctuations than I care to recall. The first time a man asked me out in earshot of other people, I genuinely thought I was dreaming."

"And did you say yes?"

Loki fixed him with a stare and Thor tried his best to look innocent.

"I don't remember. It was in the 1920s. If I did, he didn't leave much of an impression. Still, there's a place for bluntness, but sometimes I want heated, silent gazes across a crowded room. Glances and glances away. The little dance."

He didn't look away and Thor felt like a deer in headlights, unconsciously licking his lips and breaking first with an awkward laugh.

"You're right," he said, holding his hands up. "That was over the line. I'm sorry."

Friendly friends. What did friends talk about?

"It's funny that I'm virtually in the opposite position now," Thor said. "My flatmate's parents think it's odd that she shares with a guy. They weren't comfortable with it at first. As far as they're concerned, I'm gay, not bi. I've never accidentally mentioned an ex-girlfriend in front of them yet, but there have been a few near misses."

"What are they worried about?"

"Oh, you know. Don't think men and women can be just friends. And they'd probably not be best pleased if their daughter got serious with someone who hunts ghosts for a living. They worry about my mental health, I expect."

Loki chuckled wryly.

"Well, don't tell them about me then."

"I might have to. Tell them that I made a friend."

"Alright, don't overdo it..."

He said that, but Thor was pretty sure he was secretly pleased.

They wandered part of the old town for most of the rest of the day, Loki pointing out bits of the architecture which were original and the joins where rebuilds had taken place, almost invisible to Thor's eyes.

Maybe it was because he'd lived so long, but Loki knew a lot. Thor had never met someone with such wide-ranging interests, such passion for knowing things. All his own knowledge was tied to what he did, to the cutting edge of phantom chasing, the historical relevance just a kind of side effect.

Not that Loki seemed to mind. He wanted to learn all about supernatural investigations too.

"I like the people who want to trace their past lives," he said, browsing the window of a second-hand bookstore. "And why they always find out they were someone interesting."

"How do you mean?"

"Like... They were always in the court of Cleopatra or on the Titanic. How many people were on the Titanic? Couple of thousand? So out of the millions of people who have died in history, what's the likelihood that, say, Zara from Alsace was there in a past life instead of in some village that doesn't exist anymore?"

Thor couldn't help laughing, putting his hand on Loki's shoulder as he leant in to speak quietly.

"You're very cynical for a walking, talking dead man."

Loki rolled his eyes at him, still smiling though.

"Probably because I remember all my past lives on account of them bleeding into one another. And I was hardly ever actually present for a world-shaking event. I read about them in the newspapers, like everyone else, or saw them from the woods. Enough distance not to really know what was happening."

Thor couldn't pretend to have known much about Dresden's history prior to this trip, save for a mention almost in passing when his English class read Slaughterhouse-Five. And even in those abstract terms, it had been a violence and horror that he could not comprehend.

It was one thing to look at a rebuilt city and quite another to actually remember how it used to be.

He was perhaps a little pensive as Loki took him shopping for food and wine, to the point that he didn't hear right away when Loki suddenly said something quiet and serious.

"Pardon?"

"I... I want to try an experiment tonight. If you'll help me."

Thor knew he ought to ask for more details before agreeing, especially since it sounded so important.

He didn't.


	25. Chapter 25

Riesling wasn't Thor's usual tipple, but it was sharp and bright, tingling upon his tongue. And Loki cooked in a flamboyant and free way. It spoke of someone who only cooked for fun and pleasure, all flavour and colour without concern for rules or trends.

Thor had never seen someone flambé in real life before, for example, the bright yellow flames rushing upwards and then immediately dying back.

"I need to learn to cook better," was about all Thor could say, trying his best to savour the dish, but struggling as it was just too delicious and he wanted more...

Still, Loki's talk of an experiment hung over him like a cloud, constant and not quite able to be ignored. Even as they chatted about not very much, he could sense Loki's agitation. Should he ask? Should they just get it over with, whatever it was?

When Loki produced handcuffs after dinner, blushing lightly from too much wine, he didn't know what to think.

For one thing, they didn't look like the fluffy kind people bought as a joke. No, these were pretty heavy duty, pretty serious.

"Are those part of your police outfit?" Thor asked, mind strangely empty as though in disbelief or maybe self-preservation.

"Sometimes. But more for fun."

"Fun," Thor repeated slowly.

Loki huffed.

"Look, I got a little adventurous over the years, OK? Is that a problem?"

"Not at all. Just... curious about what you plan to do with them tonight, that's all."

After all, this was quite a jump. Unless it was part of his rejection of feelings. Maybe he found it easier to stay detached if things were a bit more... er... A bit different to what Thor was used to.

"They're not for you, don't worry. They're for me."

Thor prided himself on being ready for almost anything at all times, but his eyebrows didn't seem likely to drop just yet.

"I... I mean, I've never done anything like that before, but I can give it a go..."

Loki genuinely seemed a little confused for a moment before he sighed.

"No, not that. I want to see if I can resist the pull of the forest," he said. "Maybe I can break the hold of it or something if I'm held in place. So I want you to chain me up and be there with me. You may have to gag me too. I think I get quite... I scream a lot."

Thor suddenly felt sick to his stomach. This seemed dangerous.

"But... But it hurts you. You said it hurts."

"It does, but maybe I just need to get through the pain."

"What if..." and he almost didn't want to voice it, but he had to. "What if doing this makes you... pass over?"

Loki pressed his lips together, making them turn white, and sighed again, his whole body deflating.

"Then maybe I've been here too long. Maybe this is what I need to do."

No, no, no, no... And that fear must have shown in his face because Loki began pleading with him.

"Thor. Before you knew who I was, _what_ I was, you said you wanted to help the ghost. Well, here I am, a ghost asking you to help me. Please."

He had said that, yes, but that was when it was abstract. He hadn't known! He hadn't realised what that might mean.

"It's not that I want to be gone," Loki said. "I'm not hoping for that, not at all. I want to be free. Free to leave, to travel. Escape from this constant cycle of going into the woods every single night."

"What about Hottehü?" Thor asked. "He'll be devastated."

"I expect he'll go feral. He's a horse and he's dead, it's not like he's going to pine himself away. He's been running around in those woods for years. He'll be fine."

Well, maybe, but all the same...

"I've been considering this for a long time. I would feel safer if you were here with me," Loki said and Thor felt his heart throb, aching.

If he wanted to try, eventually he'd do it anyway. And it least if he was here, he wouldn't be alone. If something went wrong, maybe he could even stop it...

He took a deep breath.

"OK," he said quietly. "Alright, fine. But I don't like this."

Loki's eyes closed for a moment, his shoulders loosening in a way that spoke of relief, shaking his limbs out. He moved close, draping himself into the chair next to Thor's, kissing his cheek.

"Thank you. But it's a long time till two. And if I'm at risk of leaving this world tonight, well..."

Thor was only half listening. He was already thinking about how awful it was going to be to see Loki in pain. Didn't he say his scars would open?

Would that include his neck scar?

"What do you think?" Loki asked brightly.

"Hmm?"

A little laugh, brittle and strained.

"That's not the reaction I generally get when I ask someone if they'd like to take me to bed."

There was fear in his eyes, Thor realised. Fear of rejection, fear of what would happen later. They needed distraction, urgently.

He wondered how long it had been since someone had made Loki feel loved.

Of course, they barely knew each other. It was far too early for that, even if Loki hadn't outright rejected it. But if this was possibly the last time...

Then never mind the bed for now.

"Do you have bubble bath?" he asked.


	26. Chapter 26

"Ah! Mmm..."

Loki did have bubbles, astonishingly nice ones with essential oils and something called yuzu. It didn't bubble up particularly well, but it smelled divine, citrusy and almost spicy.

Thor had gently peeled Loki's clothes off little by little as the tub filled, kissing his way around every inch of skin revealed from shoulders to ankles to his smooth, pale wrists.

The water was a little hotter than he would have liked, but then again, Loki was pretty hot too and pink skin was worth getting to ease his way down into the water and pull him into his lap.

He'd melted so easily, leaning all his weight on Thor's body, letting him half massage him, steadily growing less and less tense. He rested his head back, sighing next to Thor's ear, peaceful and quiet as Thor ran his hands over his body and then loud as he wrapped one around his cock under the water.

The water added something he thought, Loki gripping the edge of the bath with one hand incredibly tightly while his other was beneath the surface, doing something Thor couldn't see but grinding back against Thor's answering arousal and crying out when he turned to suck a mark onto his neck.

So close, so close, but not yet... There would be time for that later.

Loki whined plaintively as Thor took his hand away and reached for shampoo.

"The waiting makes it better. Trust me."

At least that was true in his experience. He worked over Loki's hair with great concentration, pretending he wasn't also throbbing and pulsing with want.

By the time he was helping Loki stand to rinse his head beneath the shower, both of them had softened significantly, but desire was easily awakened once more with only a few light touches.

"Bed," Thor suggested, groping over at the rack for a couple of astonishingly soft towels, leaving a light later of fluff all over their tingling skin.

He would have carried Loki if he was braver, but he was too afraid of slipping so settled for leading him gently by the hand, drips running from his hair down his chest as Thor sat him on the edge of the bed and reached for his hairbrush, once again ignoring the slight bulges beneath both their towels.

No dryer - the noise would ruin the mood - but long, careful strokes of the brush, smoothing Loki's hair back into a shining black slick, like the finest, most precious lacquerware.

The pillow was dampened a little as Thor laid him down, looming above him as he stole the towel and began dabbing away any remaining droplets. Across his chest, down his abdomen and both legs, ending with his feet where he carefully toweled off each delicate toe.

Yes... Loki was going to be perfectly relaxed and boneless and almost floating by the time Thor was done with him.

Or at least that was his plan... Loki seemed to have other ideas, lunging up to grab at him, pulling him down on top to lie fully on top, arching up into him.

"Come on," he murmured. "Please..."

"What do you need?"

"There's... There's lube and condoms in the drawer."

Safety first, Thor thought, though he wasn't sure how high Loki's risk factor for anything might be. He whined when Thor tried to move to get them though, wanting contact and more all at once and never mind the logistics.

Loki's expensive taste even ran this far, it seemed. Silky smooth gel, thick with it, beautiful between his fingers as he drenched them in it liberally.

He was a little surprised to find that Loki was already a little loose.

"Were you stretching in the bath?"

"Mm.. I thought that was the plan, to do it there. But I like this better, when I can see you. But if you don't hurry up, I think I might burst..."

Well, alright then.

One finger slipped in easily and Thor couldn't help but be relieved that Loki was warm inside, his body responding eagerly to both that and Thor stroking everything he could from his thighs up to his chest.

He was struck by the miracle of it. They had no right to be here together. They should never have met. They should never have been in the same city, let alone the same bed. They should never have even been alive at the same time.

Well... "Alive."

A second finger, a third. He wanted to be completely skin to skin again, as close as possible. He needed to prove it somehow, prove that they could touch, that they were present and together and could make each other feel.

When he lined up and began to push in, Loki caught his lips in the most passionate kiss he'd ever known.


	27. Chapter 27

Loki had forgotten to breathe and it was thoroughly disconcerting. Mainly because he had practically locked their lips together and Thor was trying his best to get some air in through his nose but he really needed more oxygen than this and...

"Ah, Thor..."

OK, making Loki have to cry out could buy him breathing space, good to know. Even his slow thrusts were at risk of winding him. But he daren't stop, probably couldn't stop. Everything was just too good, from the way Loki had tangled all his limbs around him to the sounds he was making.

They were different to any Thor had heard before. His gasps were more desperate, instinctive and not for want of air. And some of them weren't even really sounds, they were sensations of vibration perhaps, hard to say. Reactions without thought, without concern to hide his strangeness.

Trust, that's what that was. He knew Thor accepted him exactly as he was. He wasn't afraid.

And now Thor was the one leaning in for kisses, foreheads pressed together as he began to speed up, wanting to last but wanting to tip over that edge together.

The tightening of Loki's body, the way his eyes fluttered and his fingers gripped the sheets, letting Thor be the one to slip his hand between their bodies and finally grasp his cock and get another strong gasp in response, they all conspired to make Thor realise he didn't have long before he'd come and so if he wanted Loki right there with him...

He knew Loki's body better now, and he copied the thumb technique that he had shown him on their first night together, circling the very head with the pad, being extra careful as he did so.

He felt it there first, a rush of fluid over his hand and then a pulse through his whole body.

Waiting always made it better, but Thor wasn't prepared for just how much, how long he'd been denying them both.

It was how long it lasted that amazed him. Seconds and seconds, overwhelming, toe-curling and finally an intense sensation of warmth and safety. Exhaustion perhaps but in a good way, a sense that he was both safe and safekeeping as he fell forwards into Loki's arms, rolling them both onto their sides immediately to hold one another.

He hoped Loki had felt that too.

When he opened his eyes, he wasn't expecting Loki to have tears threatening to fall.

"Sorry?" he tried, not sure what was wrong. Maybe he'd fallen forward too heavily. Maybe he'd done something?

"No, it's not..." Loki said. "It's not you. It's really not you. I'm just... Phew..."

"Me too."

Without speaking, they moved even closer, getting rid of the last little sliver of space between them, clinging tightly as though they needed to hold on for security.

Thor wished he could hold Loki there forever. Safe and warm and _here._

He didn't want him to take this risk, he didn't want him to go...

Maybe he wouldn't be able to go through with it. Was it bad for him to hope he wouldn't? If this was what Loki wanted...

Still, he couldn't quite bear it.

Loki fell asleep in his arms, untroubled. It began to get dark and Thor's unease only grew. Every minute, every second took them closer and closer to two o'clock.

Maybe that's why Loki was sleeping. Forcing his brain to stop worrying. Shutting down for a while.

Thor held him and wished he could think of some way to change his mind. Some way to convince him that the risk was too great.

He first knew that something was happening when Loki made a strange rattling sound. His first breath in several hours, perhaps? And then grunts as his eyes flickered open.

"Cuffs," he groaned.

"Are you sure about this?" Thor asked. "Really sure?"

Loki nodded and winced, clearly already in pain.

"Please. Let me try."

Thor fetched the handcuffs, making sure he knew where Loki's car keys were too. Just in case.

In case it was too much.


	28. Chapter 28

The moaning and rattling breathing only got worse. They would be scaring the neighbours, Thor was sure, and what if someone forced their way in to find him standing over a naked man covered in open wounds and chained to the bed...?

He got dressed hurriedly, thinking that one of them ought to be clothed at least in case they had to leave in a hurry, and climbed on next to Loki's trembling form. He wanted to try to offer some sort of comfort, but every scar on Loki's body seemed to have opened, oozing blood sluggishly onto his sheets. Should he touch him? Would it hurt?

He took his hand, crumpled though it was on the pillow, and stroked his hair, trying to make soothing noises.

"You're OK, you're alright, it's nearly two..."

It was, and yet it wasn't. Time which had seemed to rush not so long ago suddenly crawled and Loki was clenching his eyes and jaw in an effort to hold back his cries, crushing Thor's hand.

Five minutes to go. How long could five minutes be?

Much, much too long, especially as Loki began to shake rather violently, shivering but in a way that was uncanny, jerking as though some unseen puppeteer was carelessly jolting his strings.

It was like a seizure, like a fit, and Thor desperately tried to remember the first aid for that. Stay with them, make sure they don't hurt themselves, don't put anything in their mouth or you might block their airway...

That probably didn't apply to Loki though.

And despite it all, he was still lucid. Still present. His eyes darting about but ordered, able to focus on Thor where he lay beside him. And then he tried to speak, but it was mostly a gurgle.

"What?"

"H-h-h-old..."

Despite his reservations about possibly making things worse, Thor instantly wrapped his arms around Loki's body, trying to keep him safe, trying to make this somehow less awful...

Loki screamed, a sharp cry of agony that was cut off short.

And Thor hit the bed, his arms suddenly empty. Loki was gone. Vanished.

Blearily, he looked up at the clock - 02:01.

The tears were falling before he knew it, horrible sobs coming from somewhere deep within him. The darkness seemed oppressive, the street light outside making everything sickly and harsh, shadows everywhere.

Was that it? Was he gone forever? His hopes of freedom vanished and Thor left alone to run back home and never speak of him again?

He should never have agreed to this, sitting in the dark, his tears mingling with the faint red stain on Loki's pillow.

And then a thought struck him.

Hadn't Loki said he ended up in the forest regardless of trying not to go and didn't know how he got there?

If he was able to walk and talk after losing his head, who knew what else was possible?

What if he was out there now, naked and alone, needing someone to comfort and help him?

Thor tried not to hope. Hope was bad. It could only be dashed.

All the same, he ran to the hall, only stopping to grab Loki some clothes just in case as an afterthought before sprinting down the stairs and out to the car.

The engine struggled and grumbled as he jerked the key in the ignition and how typical when he was in a rush. A forty minute journey out to Verlorenes Wasser. Forty minutes to try to remain calm, to drive safely.

Fortunately, the streets out of Dresden were fairly quiet at such an early hour.

Remember to drive on the right, Thor, that's a good idea. He only punched the door looking for gears twice, which considering how nervous he was could possibly qualify as some sort of miracle.

Maybe he drove out to the forest a little too fast. Wasn't there some kind of law in Germany that there was no speed limit? Or was that only on certain roads?

The last thing he needed was to be stopped for speeding in a clearly stolen car wearing blood-stained clothes.

The trees felt like old friends with open arms, welcoming him back. He just hoped - in spite of himself, in spite of trying to keep that hope at bay - that he hadn't come out here for no reason.

He slammed the door loudly, hoping to attract attention, wishing he'd thought to bring a torch to help him look. As it was, the darkness forced him to be slow. He'd be no use at all if he fell in a hole.

And that, of course, meant it didn't take long until he was completely, hopelessly lost in the forest.

"Loki?" he tried. "Are you here?"

He listened, straining his ears.

"Loki?"

Was that something in the distance? Something like... Like crying?

Thor took a deep breath and set out towards it, step after shaking step.


	29. Chapter 29

Thor had heard of wailing ghosts. They were the ones he felt worst for, people so overcome with rage or despair that they could only scream. But that sound out there in the forest was not wailing. It was weeping.

And he was getting closer to it.

He really hoped it was Loki and that he wasn't about to interrupt someone's night venting.

"Loki?" and he was close enough to lower his voice now. Shouting seemed wrong. Like yelling in a temple, somehow wrong.

Sniffling, and finally Thor came through a thicket and there Loki was, sitting with his back against a tree, looking like he'd just crawled out of his grave. Naked, covered in mud, hair tangled. He was cradling his head, probably the only reason his tears were audible.

"Loki. Oh, Loki..."

He rushed to Loki's side before he could let his head fall, holding his poor cold body and letting him sob against his chest.

"I thought I'd lost you..."

His body was blocking the moonlight so Loki could cry without worrying about dropping anything, Thor trying to soothe him even if it was just a little.

"I brought you clothes. Do you want them now or...? No? OK."

He could only feel Loki shaking his head, could only kneel in the dirt and stroke his skin, waiting for him to be ready to speak or stand or anything.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm sorry it didn't work."

Inside, he wasn't. Or at least he wasn't sorry that Loki was still here with him. But he was sorry that Loki was so miserable, so lonely that he was prepared to take the risk. That now he would resign himself to this fate, and be here always. Maybe he would wail then.

Well, not while Thor was alive.

The conviction had been growing in him, but now he was certain of it. He was going to be Loki's friend for as long as possible, as long as he lived. And, yes, one day he would die, but that inevitably was decades off with any luck.

Maybe he could even come live here and give Loki contact whenever he needed it, whatever kind of contact he needed.

When he wasn't so distraught, maybe they could talk about it.

As it was, eventually Loki pulled back a little, wiping his eyes with the back of his hands and mumbling about trousers with a faint air of embarrassment.

And of course Thor had forgotten to bring him any underwear in his rush to get out of the house. Still, he seemed happy enough just to have clothes at all, thrusting his head at Thor to hold while he tugged on a soft pullover.

At a loss of what else to do, Thor cradled it to his chest and did his best to wipe the tears away. A couple of rolled eyes weren't going to deter him, especially since they were followed by smiles. Sad smiles, but smiles all the same.

"Thanks," Loki said afterwards as they cautiously tried to make their way back to the car. "Was it bad?"

"Terrifying," Thor admitted, not seeing the point in lying. "You were in so much pain and then you were just gone and I thought... I didn't know. And then I didn't know if you'd be here."

Loki sniffed.

"Well, you handled it pretty well, I think. And I'm sorry for scaring you."

It wasn't his fault. None of it was. And that forced tone was setting Thor's teeth on edge. The sound of Loki hiding. Concealing himself and his feelings. Not talking about the depth of despair he evidently felt at the thought of centuries and millennia stretching out into the distance.

But it wasn't Thor's right to ask about that. Not now.

"I'll drive," he said. "You rest. I'll probably be better at it now I'm not freaking out."

"Without insurance? What if we get stopped?"

Thor laughed in spite of himself.

"Twenty minutes ago I was driving around at night in what was clearly not my car, covered in blood and with someone else's clothes on the passenger seat. I think we'll be OK."

He did make an effort to drive extra carefully all the same, keeping his eyes on the road even as he wanted to look at where Loki was gazing out of the window, watching as the city street lights became more numerous, holding his head in place with one hand.

"Are you OK?" he asked when the silence had got too much.

"I will be," Loki said, emotionless. "I'm always OK in the end. It might just take a while."

Thor hoped that was true. The being OK, not the taking a long time part.

And he wished there was a way for him to make it true faster.


	30. Chapter 30

Should he talk about it sooner or later? Would it be better to mention his idea to stay in Loki's life or should he keep it until he was preparing to leave? They both sounded like equally terrible ideas, if he was honest. One had the potential to make things horribly awkward and the other was like am ambush.

He was pondering it after they'd managed to scurry inside and close all the curtains to keep the moon out, as he held Loki close, stroking his hair, battling sleep. And he secretly thought Loki was actively trying to make him drift off, lying him down, his earlier sleeplessness coming back with interest.

Maybe Loki wanted to be alone for a while now he was at least safely home.

Sure enough, Thor woke to an empty bed. An empty flat. And after a little while of running around the place in a panic, he found a note on the fridge, held up by a magnet with a prancing horse on it.

_Thor,_

_Gone to the gym. Back soon. Please eat._

Blowing off steam. Good. That was probably good for him. And he was doing something constructive. Or something non-destructive at least.

Thor ate dry cereal just for energy and opened the sitting room curtains, looking out onto the street. It looked so normal. Parked cars. Teenagers slouching their way to school, bags haphazardly slung on single shoulders. A toddler running into a crowd of pigeons and standing amazed as they took so the air as one. A small woman walking a huge dog.

After a while, Thor experimented with the coffee machine and managed to produce something hot and liquidly, dragging a chair back to the window to enjoy the view and to try to keep his mind calm.

He watched sparrows flitting around, cleaning their beaks against the sandstone walls. A man pushing a pram, stopping to adjust the sun shade over the tiny passenger. The slow but steady progress of an elderly woman, striking out with her stick like a mountaineer.

Loki had been exactly as he was now when that woman was the same age as the baby being so carefully cared for. He would be the same when Thor was an old man. And that was a frightening thought in many ways. Particularly with his determination to remain part of Loki's life for as long as possible. He would change physically. Loki would not.

And of course ultimately it was Loki's decision whether to allow him into his world. So he had to make his case well.

Thinking his options over, he went back to the fridge to fetch the note and took the pen from the table. If he wrote it down, Loki could read it all in one go and he wouldn't stumble over his words or be interrupted. It would be concise and clear. This was a good plan.

He flicked the end of the pen against his lips, trying to choose how to begin.

 _Dear Loki_ seemed about right.

_I realise how devastated you must be that the experiment didn't work out the way you had hoped. I'm very sorry and I wish I could do more to help. I'm going to try to help anyway._

_Although it has only been a few days, I feel we have made a connection and that is something I do not want to simply let go. I want to stay in contact, talk often, come and visit you when I can. And maybe one day come and live here, even if just for a while. If you are comfortable with that._

_I will get old while you will always be young and beautiful. And I can foresee the problems that could arise. But all the same, in my short lifetime, I would like to be your friend and maybe more, if that was something that worked out. I think it is a valuable thing, to share life with someone else in any capacity, whether friendship or as partners. For a while, I would like to know you are not lonely._

_I know you will hesitate. You will think of the end, of when we must inevitably part. Sometimes I think about how life will be after my parents are gone and, yes, it hurts to think about. But for the moment, I have them and I am glad of it._

_For the moment, you have me. If you want._

_If we focus on the present, I think we will find joy in it._

He didn't know what else to say that wouldn't just be repeating himself. And he evidently didn't know how to express his emotions clearly. It was too early to know what this was. It could be a beautiful friendship or it could be a love affair and anything in between. And he wanted all of those. He just wanted... contact. Contact with someone who seemed to get him in a way few others did, who would call him out when he tried to play ignorant or when he tried to promise the moon because that was just how he was, but who also smiled at him so freely and listened to him and liked him enough that he was already worried about being too attached.

That wasn't the kind of acquaintance you stumbled across every day.

And Loki had trusted him last night, had let him try his best to take care of him. It might have been his last night on earth and he'd spent it in Thor's arms. That was not nothing.

He signed the note and waited until he saw Loki coming up the street, coat buttoned right up despite the strong sun, hair drying in light waves.

Fresh coffee. That might help.

The bubbling of the water seemed to echo the butterflies in his stomach as he heard Loki's key in the lock.


	31. Chapter 31

He thrust the paper into Loki's hand with all the grace of a twelve-year-old giving their crush a Valentine's card, wanting to scurry away and hide while Loki read it.

He didn't, of course. He stood and watched the emotions flicker over Loki's face. Solemnity gave way to a tight frown, a bitten lip, hard blinks to keep the threat of tears at bay.

"We can't," he whispered eventually. "You can't live here. You have family and friends. I can't meet them. They'd notice something was wrong with me."

Thor winced at what he was about to say, but it was true.

"My parents won't always be around. Friends move away all the time. Besides, that's just an option, it's not the be-all and end-all. But staying in contact... That's what I really want. And I think you want it too."

He certainly hoped so. Loki sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, pained.

"Of course I want it," he said. "But wanting doesn't make it any more plausible. You'd really want to be hanging out with me when you're fifty? Sixty? What about... I don't know. A family? Children? I don't want you giving those options up because of me."

"Well, I don't want to give you up because of things that might never happen," Thor threw back.

Loki stared at him for a moment and then huffed out a laugh, shaking his head.

"You're so fucking young," he said. "Things will change. They always do."

"Maybe so. Maybe we'll adapt. Isn't it at least worth a try?"

A heavy sigh and Loki carefully folded his letter, tucking it into his pocket.

"Thor, I... I can't make a decision like this right now. I'm not in the right place. For anything serious really. Leave this for now? Have you eaten? I was thinking of taking you to the castle. They have the largest collection of treasures in Europe and I just... I want to look at pretty things and pretend last night didn't happen."

That wasn't a no. And Thor was almost sure he understood. Beautiful objects to glitter and distract, to help him remember why existence was good. And again, gold and jewels were generally permanent. Unchanging things of beauty.

"Sure, just let me grab my shoes."

It certainly was an impressive building for all it had been rebuilt multiple times from fire and war. Thor particularly liked the way the dark towers rose out of the sandstone facade of the main structure. He stood by while Loki seemed to do some negotiation with the ticket desk. Quite an intense discussion it seemed requiring timetables and maps.

"What is it?"

"I forgot you needed to book a specific slot for the Old Green Vault. There's strict rules about how many people can be in at one time. But we can go to the New Green Vault first and hopefully still have time for you to have lunch before our time."

Thor frowned lightly, unable to keep a little smile from his lips.

"I won't starve if I have to wait a bit longer for lunch, you know," he said. "I'm not that delicate. I won't faint or anything."

"You didn't sleep well. You need the energy."

It was quite nice to be fussed over, Thor had to admit. Loki was concerned for his welfare. That was a good thing, surely.

But he wasn't going to point that out right now.

"Why is it called the Green Vault?" he asked instead.

"Because it was green, once. The columns were painted to look like malachite or something. Not so much these days. Though there is one green thing that's very special and almost unique in here."

How he was meant to spot it, Thor didn't know. He was completely dazzled by what he saw. Oh, he wouldn't have this stuff in his house, but then again he didn't exactly have the kind of place where a coffee service made of gold or a sort of doll's house palace made of thousands of jewels wouldn't look ridiculous.

They were beautiful, yes, but almost overwhelmingly so. His eye was drawn to too many facets at once, top much to take in. Who honestly looked at something with 500 diamonds on it and decided it needed more?

But he could appreciate the skill which went into such things, especially the earring made from a carved cherry stone. It had nearly 200 faces etched onto it. Doing such a thing with only a magnifying glass and a steady hand seemed like nothing short of magic to him.

All the same, seeing so many things of such high value all together was strange. The idea that one person had owned all of this. Had been able to pay vastly more than the cost of a house on individual objects that were mainly useless. Pretty, yes, but beyond that...

He hoped the artists and artisans had been paid well.

It was a shock when Loki took his hand and led him forwards, grinning, pointing at one object in particular.

At first, Thor couldn't help but find it hideous. Too gaudy for him, too much. A sort of knot made from filigree with leaf shapes spiralling off around it, but in the centre...

"That," Loki said, squeezing his fingers. "Is the Dresden green diamond. Probably the largest natural one of its kind in the world."

It wasn't the same colour as Loki's eyes or anything perfectly romantic like that, far too pale and slightly yellowy, but Thor could just see them reflected in it all the same.

"I didn't know you got green diamonds," he said. "I thought they were always white, or maybe blue."

"They come in all shades depending on environmental factors, but green ones are extremely rare, especially naturally. This one developed its colour due to radiation exposure. Isn't that amazing? That something potentially so dangerous produced something so beautiful?"

It was amazing. And now Thor was thinking about gemstones. How they were created through pressure and time, extremes creating such stunning things. And he thought about the pressures of Loki's existence and how still he sparkled with wit and knowledge.

"It's wonderful," he said.

It was more wonderful that Loki made no attempt to let go of his hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The [Dresden Green Diamond](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dresden_Green_Diamond) is a real thing, though I just heard "big, green, caused by radiation exposure" and came to the conclusion that this is the Hulk of the diamond world.


	32. Chapter 32

Thor had shine fatigue. He had seen so many stunning things in such a short space of time that he still saw glittering jewels every time he closed his eyes. He'd had a quick lunch of supermarket pasta salad so he could eat outside on such a nice day, Loki lounging beside him. He clearly wanted to unbutton a little bit daren't. He was lucky he suited high necklines, really.

And then it had been their time for the historic vault, laid out almost as it would have been when it was first built, without glass cases and with huge mercury-backed mirrors reflecting each treasure. Loki had taken his hand through the amber room and the ivory room and the silver room and the silver gilt room - which was different - and just when he thought there could be nothing shinier, they ended up in the jewel room.

"The biggest jewel collection in Europe," Thor read from one of the exhibition signs. "How did all this survive when the building was destroyed?"

"Oh, they'd learned from the last time there were bombs - gathered it all up and put it in a fortress along with some prisoners of war. And then some of it went to the Soviet Union, but they gave it back a couple of decades later."

He spoke about history like he was talking about something he saw on the news last week. Thor found it oddly charming. And even though he must have seen these objects dozens if not hundreds of times, Loki's reflection in the mirrors was bright and happy, fractures of light glittering onto his cheekbones.

It was good to see him distracted, even if Thor was overwhelmed himself. His world was darkness and straining his ears and eyes for tiny movements, not opulence he could hardly imagine laid out before him.

He'd just have to come back some time, clearly, and take it all in for a second time.

Subtle planning, Thor.

The outside world seemed pleasingly gentle to his eyes, clouds and grass and pavements and trees. Nice matte colours. Soothing.

"My legs hurt," Loki said. "Do your legs hurt? I'm not used to being on my feet this long."

"I wouldn't have thought you got tired, as such."

"I'm like old leather. I get creaky when I haven't been stretched in a while. The gym this morning probably didn't help."

But it had made him feel better. That was the main thing.

"Do you have lotion or something?" Thor asked. "Maybe you need a massage."

Loki gave him a suspicious sideways glance, dropping his hand. No... No, that seemed like a step backwards.

"Stop it. Stop laying it on so thick."

"You've had a difficult day," Thor protested. "A difficult night and day. I think you deserve a little pampering."

They were wandering towards Loki's neighbourhood slowly and Thor practically literally bit his tongue to keep from pushing too much.

"This is unfair," Loki said eventually. "You know how nice that sounds to me."

"I'm happy to do it. Really."

Loki still seemed to be considering it.

"Dinner first," he said. "Let me think it over."

Victory. Or close enough. Maybe.

And Thor was definitely going to cook tonight. Yes, perhaps he was indeed trying too hard, but he wanted to, he needed to prove that there were still things worth existing for, that it was worth seeing what tomorrow might bring.

Of course, he might have known that Loki would decide he didn't actually feel like eating, letting him cook for one anyway and then watching him eat. With anyone else, he might have found it creepy.

"You're not planning on letting this go, are you?" Loki asked eventually, glass of water precariously dangling from his hand.

Thor swallowed the mouthful of carrot he'd been chewing a little too quickly.

"I don't... I don't want to risk losing contact with you and end up wondering what if. What if I'd tried harder, what if we'd given it a shot?"

Loki hummed lightly, legs crossed, one bare foot twirling in the air thoughtfully.

"Fine," he said. "I'll consider giving it a shot, as you say. But on one condition."

"Yeah?"

A look across the table. A very serious look.

"You say you accept me, but that means all of me. So after you've insisted on giving me a leg massage, in return you should let me suck your cock. Maybe tomorrow, if you're not interested tonight, or the day after, but some time before you leave."

He was so blunt about it. But where Thor had been unsure, full of instinctive fear, he was now determined. He could handle this. He could enjoy it.

"Deal," he said, twirling his fork. "Even if you are coercing me a little."

"Look who's talking, ghost hunter."


	33. Chapter 33

It was starting to sink in a little that Loki was quite rich. Presumably he'd earned enough over the years - and of course, not needing to eat probably helped in that regard - that he could afford to buy the fancy stuff because this lotion was unlike any Thor had come across before. Nowhere near the basic cream in its huge white bottle that his mother used to sooth her hands in winter, far from even the fanciest balm he'd ever been given at Christmas.

This stuff was incredible and it went a long way.

Which was lucky as there was a lot of leg to be covered.

Loki lay on his stomach on the bed, his dark jeans discarded nearby, propped up on his elbows. The first thing Thor did was loosen his shirt. Hiding the scar was obviously reflexive, but he didn't need to disguise anything at home like this. He was safe here.

Once his hands had run up and down his calves a few times dry, Loki seemed to relax a little, lying down properly with his cheek against the pillow.

Thor became immersed in his work, in moving muscles this way and that, finally pumping out a little lotion to leave his skin shining.

He wanted to draw spirals in Loki's leg hair. Was that weird? It was probably weird. He shouldn't say that.

And he definitely wasn't noticing how good his soft cotton shorts looked like this. Nope. Not at all. Smooth, steady motions, gently working out tension.

Even with such a light sheen of lotion, it managed to pool slightly in the back of Loki's knees. Thor had never considered that an attractive part of anyone's anatomy, but somehow it was charming right now. But also almost a border, a barrier, the space between calf and thigh...

"Can I go higher?" Thor asked.

"I assumed you would."

"But it's OK?"

"More than OK. I could get used to this."

Stay cool, Thor. Don't celebrate too soon.

Loki was softer here, more fleshy, and that just meant there was more to squish gently into suppleness. Thor didn't consider himself an expert by any means, but he'd squashed himself into enough cramped spaces and had to deal with the stiffness afterwards to know roughly what he was doing.

He fell into a sort of trance, his breath long and slow, smiling to notice that Loki had practically forgotten to breathe himself, just occasional peaceful sighs that made his whole torso rise and fall.

Before long, Thor had made his way to his lower back, hands pushing under his shirt a little bit. Just using up the last of the moisturiser from his skin, of course.

When he finally sat back, Loki grunted faintly.

"Can't move," he mumbled. "Too relaxed. C'mere."

Thor was only too happy to flop down beside him, pleased by a job well done. He was distinctly less pleased by what Loki said next though.

"Don't come with me to the woods tonight. I need to be by myself for a few hours. You haven't done anything, you're just... very distracting."

And that distraction had been his primary tool. Then again, this did show that Loki was genuinely thinking about things. He needed time. To be honest, Thor probably needed a full night's sleep as well.

"Alright," he said. "But if you need anything..."

"I think I'll be OK. But thanks for being concerned."

When had someone last been concerned? And was that a good or a bad memory?

Thor knew if he was serious about this that he had to stop second guessing every little thing, but he also didn't want to make some stupid little mistake and ruin everything. And that was a tricky line.

Loki wrapped himself around him, head on his shoulder, shirt loose and hair lightly tousled. He looked very comfortable. Very peaceful.

"I was right to make sure you were there with me last night," he said softly. "I don't know what kind of state I might have been in if there hadn't been someone to help catch me. But that doesn't change the fact that you'll age and die and that's hard to think about."

He couldn't begrudge him that.

"If you ever want to get rid of me for being old and wrinkly and cramping your style, I'll understand."

Loki swatted at him.

"Don't tease me. You know what I mean. I don't get sick. Ever. So if I develop feelings for you, I don't know if I'll cope with even the idea of that. Go slow with me. I need to go gently. But then I get scared that every delay will be wasted time..."

"Take all the time you need," Thor said. "As you pointed out, it's not like I can just drop everything and come back. It'll take years before we can even consider it."

"And to me, it seems like you don't have many of those left."

Thor sighed gently.

"Let's say I live for another 40 years," he said. "And that's a low figure considering average life expectancy. You'll be somewhere around 270 then. So 40 years out of 270 is... Er..."

"Nearly 15%," Loki said. "You kids these days with your calculators..."

That was a lower figure than Thor would have liked, but all the same. Thinking in more ordinary terms, 10% of 70 years was still seven. Nearly a decade. Plenty friendships lasted less than that. Plenty marriages.

"I'd love to be your friend for 15% of your life," he said. "And remember, that's a low estimate."

Loki snuggled at little closer, hooking a leg around Thor's waist.

"40 years without being lonely sounds pretty great," he said. "I can't deny it. Even just as friends. But I'm still not decided just yet."

Part of Thor wanted to ask how quickly he thought he might come to a decision. But he didn't. He wouldn't.

After all, maybe it would never come to a head as such. Maybe it would suddenly be 40 years later and they'd still be in each other's lives.

Yes, he thought, drifting off to sleep with Loki tucked beside him. That would be the best of both worlds.


	34. Chapter 34

Thor woke alone and briefly panicked, especially as it was already light outside. He was under a blanket too, like someone had put him to bed. He was sure he'd been on top of the covers just a few moments ago.

He got up and shuffled his way through to the main room, where Loki was curled in a chair, book in hand. The rush of relief at seeing him was not something Thor had expected, but there it was, like an engine starting when you were so sure you were stranded.

"Coffee?" he asked.

Loki turned his page, smiling.

"Yes, please."

Questions burned under Thor's skin as he set the water to heat. Had he had a think? What had he decided? And how should he bring that up?

"Did you sleep well?" Loki asked, sitting up properly to grasp his cup in both hands, the book face down in his lap.

"Yeah. Right through."

"I'm glad I didn't wake you going out. Or coming back."

The liquid hit Thor's tongue hard, too hot, but he blinked through the pain.

"How were the woods?" he asked after the silence had seemed to last far, far too long.

Probably only around twenty seconds, knowing him.

"Quiet," Loki said. "It was raining, so I just sat in the car, listened to it hitting the roof and pattering through the trees."

That sounded nice, Thor thought vaguely. It was nice to listen to rain and wind while being safe and warm. But where he would normally be imagining it, the thought seemed abstract. He felt quite distant to himself somehow. Waiting for Loki to speak. Listening. Anticipating.

And Loki was letting him stew, that little smile still on his face, blowing gently across the surface of his coffee. Playing with him.

Might as well grit his teeth and bear it then...

"And did you have time to... think?"

Loki took a long, deliberate sip. This was just torture now!

"I did."

Thor looked at him expectantly, practically burning his hand on his cup, swapping to the handle rather urgently.

"And?"

"And I thought about you. A lot. About how concerned you evidently are about my state of mind and how unlikely it is for me to have met a man who dreamt of meeting me. I don't believe in fate, but maybe I ought to reconsider that position."

That sounded good, right? Positive. He waited for Loki to say something else. Something more concrete.

"Of course, I also thought about how your figure of 15% is not an accurate figure. After all, I will carry on after that, so the overall percentage will drop and drop and drop."

Bad?

"And then I thought about whether I ultimately regret any of my other relationships. Not the end of them, but the good times. And the answer, when I got down to it, is no. Therefore, having a friend - a proper friend I don't have to lie to - even for the smallest fraction of my existence..."

Thor held his breath. Was good? Was something he wanted?

Loki frowned and tilted his head to the side.

"You know, Thor, I'm sure I had important plans to do something today and it's completely gone out of my mind."

Thor had once had a very kind teacher who had taught him the word "discombobulated." Perhaps he was only just learning what it meant as Loki drained his coffee, put his book beneath his cup on the table, and advanced upon Thor's armchair with a faintly predatory look in his eyes before slipping into his lap, gazing down at him like he was a puzzle giving him a little trouble. Thor's hands automatically flew to his waist, holding on carefully.

"Why are you so determined to take care of me?"

"Well," Thor stammered. "Because no one has in far too long."

"Ah, so it's pity..."

"No!" Thor protested. "No, not at all. I feel... privileged to have met you and that you've let me into your private life. You trusted me with that and I hope I can prove that your trust is not misplaced. And besides, you're funny and clever and..."

Loki shut him up with a kiss. And he was kind of grateful for it. He'd been rambling.

"I notice you didn't mention sex, even though..." Loki gestured vaguely at their current positions.

"Well, you're always going to be hot, but I'm not," Thor said. "I'll get soft and wrinkly, like an old peach. And maybe you won't want me some day when that happens. And that's alright."

Loki scoffed, running his hand through Thor's hair, tangled from bed.

"Gold to silver," he said. "And every line a sign of something lived. And you'll be yourself in there still."

That sounded more committed than Thor was expecting. He could only lean up and catch Loki's lips again, gripping his hips a little more tightly.

Maybe Loki would change his mind, maybe they'd move gently into being platonic and not even the tiniest bit romantic or sexual, but that was... Yeah. That was the future. And right now, Loki was straddling his legs and kissing him and asking him to be his confidant and friend for as long as he could and...

It was difficult to pull away, but he had to if he was going to speak, holding Loki's face in both hands.

"I think I'm ready."

Loki grinned at him and dismounted smoothly, taking his hand to lead him through to the bedroom.


	35. Chapter 35

They fell sideways onto the mattress, still slightly warm from Thor sleeping in it, or maybe that was just his imagination, Loki quickly rolling on top and attacking Thor's pyjamas.

Not that he wasn't giving as good as he got. He was going to kiss and touch everywhere, especially anywhere Loki might be concerned about. This was a celebration after all. Or Thor thought so at least.

Nope. No chance. Loki shoved him down bodily, legs scrabbling as he tried to work his way down the bed as quickly as possible, eyes glittering.

"You don't have to go so fast..." Thor tried, like his body wasn't responding eagerly.

"I want to do this," Loki said, looking up at him very seriously. "I want to make you feel good."

That probably shouldn't have been as hot as it was.

And to be fair, Loki did slow down a little once he had Thor naked. He ran his tongue up the side of Thor's cock, pink and darting, an unusual but very nice sensation. And then the other side and then up the vein on the underside and then he kissed the head, sloppy and playful.

"Fuck..."

"Mm. Ready?"

"Yeah. Yeah, do it, please."

Loki gave him a wide smile and lowered his head.

"Oh! Oh, my God..."

He didn't even hesitate, just leant forward and kept on going until his lips were wrapped around the base. Thor had never felt anything like it, mouth and eyes gaping, stunned.

And Loki laughed as his expression, or at least he thought that was what had happened, the vibrations making Thor moan and flop back. It was overwhelming. It was so much. He was going to spill embarrassingly quickly at this rate.

The cold air shocked him as Loki disengaged, chuckling.

"You're not getting off so easy," he said. "I was just making sure you could handle the full works, as it were. And now I'm going to make you wait."

Waiting makes it better, Thor told himself, but being pushed towards the edge and then denied over and over was enough to drive him to distraction, gasping for air, babbling out, pleading and begging, unable to concentrate enough to be embarrassed.

Maybe that's what Loki wanted. Maybe he liked knowing how easily he could reduce him to a panting mess.

"Think you've waited enough?"

"Uh-huh..."

"Mm, I'm not sure..."

"Please!"

At first he though Loki was going to keep denying him, but then his entire length was engulfed again, and Loki was swallowing and swallowing and it was so tight, so warm, so...

Thor prided himself on being a considerate lover, for example by warning his partners when he was about to come in their mouths - or down their throat in this case - but he couldn't, not in time. He tried, with a half cut-off yelp being the best he could manage before he was twitching and jerking, finally understanding what people meant when they talked about going boneless.

He flopped, every muscle loose, not feeling like he could even move his arms as Loki crawled up his body, smiling smugly.

"Regretting not letting me do that earlier?" he asked.

Thor shook his head, not even managing that particularly well.

"I think knowing you better, that made it more intense. And knowing I can stay in your life..."

"Oh, stop, like you were able to think about any of that!"

Fair point. Thor giggled helplessly, trying to pull Loki closer.

"Let me get my breath back," he said. "And we'll see what you manage to think about during a little of the same treatment."

Of course, he needed air and so wasn't able to perform quite the same feats (not that he had ever been good at deep throating anyway) but Loki seemed to enjoy it anyway.

And afterwards, as they lay together, Thor once again trying to catch his breath and Loki just enjoying the pleasant buzz of being sated, Thor couldn't help but be amazed that in all his years of looking for ghosts, he had been lucky enough to meet this one.

"I really like you, you know?"

A him from somewhere to the right of his ear.

"I really like you too."


	36. Chapter 36

He couldn't stay forever, however much he wanted to. The days moved too quickly, being happily led around by Loki, from cultural site to beautiful park to wonderful restaurant and Thor had fallen almost as hard for the city as he had for Loki.

Of course, he wasn't saying stuff like that out loud. Despite agreeing in principle, Loki was still cautious about their friendship. Sometimes Thor would catch him looking at him, squinting lightly, like he was trying to work something out.

He got used to waking alone more often than not, to being the only one eating, to being a little hungover where Loki was fresh as a daisy. It was different, certainly, but he was already becoming accustomed to it.

But he still had to leave. Months had gone by since he'd asked Sif to cover for him. She probably had, but he really should go home and set about preparing his life to come back some day. He'd need a new job, a proper, reliable one, one that would let him save a little and actually get his pension going. Preferably one that would allow him to move to Germany fairly easily, so something skilled.

Maybe it was time for him to start using his electrical engineering qualifications. His parents were going to be thrilled.

An air of melancholy came over them both as his departure day came nearer and nearer. Kisses were more bruising, touches more like gripping tight. No amount of either of them saying "But, of course, we'll talk every day," made it feel better.

Temporary. And there would be visits. Phone calls. And letters. Gifts maybe. All sorts of things to make the distance not seem to far. They would get through it, Thor was determined.

The night before he was due to leave, he went with Loki out to the woods. It had been Loki's private time on other nights, insisting that Thor needed his rest and ought to sleep. But they didn't want to waste any more time, even if Thor was yawning. He could sleep on the plane.

They took a blanket and lay in the moonlight, looking at the stars and clouds, the faint blue glow of the Milky Way. Despite his unfailing belief in ghosts, there was a lot in the universe that Thor simply didn't understand. But maybe that was alright. Maybe he didn't need to know.

When Loki sat up, it felt perfectly ordinary to help him pick up his head. He'd had a paradigm shift, it seemed. And it felt good.

"I've gotten too attached to you," Loki said, sighing out that rattling, dead breath he had in the night.

"Is that bad?"

"It's unexpected. But maybe... Maybe not. I don't know. It's just I haven't missed anyone in a long time."

Thor took his hand, so cold and strange, and squeezed lightly.

"I'll miss you too. But I'll call the minute I get in and as often as I can. You're not getting rid of me any time soon."

It was strangely reassuring to see a sad smile.

Loki drove him to the airport the next day, hugging him tightly in front of the security gates, shivering when Thor grew bold and pulled his collar down just enough to kiss his neck one more time where no one would see.

"I'll see you soon. I promise."

How he hoped he'd be able to keep that promise.

His journey home was uneventful, boring even, but he also couldn't shake the hollow feeling in the pit of his stomach that something was changing. Part of his life was over and another part was waiting to begin. He just had to be patient.

Sif was already in her pyjamas when he stumbled through the door, peeking out of the living room before coming to hug him.

"How was it?" she asked, helping him drag his bags in. "Did you get any good readings?"

Thor forced a chuckle.

"Actually," he said. "I got distracted. I met a guy."

She gasped, fake scandalised, swiping him on the shoulder.

"For shame! Distracted from the spirits by a pretty face... I'll put the kettle on and then you can tell me all about him."

"Tea sounds amazing, thanks. I'm just going to call him quickly, let him know I got home safe."

She bustled off into the kitchen while he slipped into his bedroom, turning his phone on for the first time in weeks, ignoring the handful of messages he had from his mother for the moment, and finding the precious piece of paper with Loki's number written on it, held carefully in his wallet.

That strange ring, the single European one rather than the more familiar double tone. And then a click and then...

"Hallo."

"Hey. It's me. Just in the door."

A little sigh of relief.

"I hoped it would be. But I already scared a telemarketer by answering too eagerly."

It was a little weird hearing him through tinny phone speakers, but that would get easier.

"Listen, I'll call you a little later - my flatmate wants to hear all about my trip. But I couldn't wait to let you know."

"How about I call you? The international fees will cost you a fortune."

Good point. He'd have to get a new phone contract to sort that out.

"Yeah, great. Eleven-ish, your time?"

He saved Loki's number and then impulsively added a heart after his name.

"So, what's he like?" Sif asked, mismatched mugs in hand. "Drop dead gorgeous?"

Thor deliberately took a sip and settled himself into the couch before replying.

"I've been hoping to meet someone like him for a long time."


	37. Chapter 37

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made myself cry writing this so, you know... You can have that little mini-warning if you are also overemotional in case you're on public transport or something.

It was twenty years before Thor moved to Germany, and a lot changed in the interim. For him, anyway. Loki liked to joke that the only thing that ever changed for him overall was daylight saving time. His 24-hour cycle never changed, but sometimes it was nominally three o'clock when he had to be in the woods. Thor ended up learning more about the history of hour changes in Germany than was probably normal.

It was difficult to just throw "Did you know there was no daylight saving in Germany between the wars or from 1949 until 1980?" into casual conversation, but he did love how Loki still forgot the clocks would change every single year. It was still such a recent change from his perspective.

Lots of people told Thor he'd finally grown up when he gave up hunting ghosts full time, but he didn't see it like that. He was still the same man. His priorities had changed, that was all.

He began working for himself, freelancing as an electrician and technician, which was helpful when it became clear that, in his old age, his father needed a little more care than his mother was able to give by herself. Thor could do his work from anywhere and so was easily able to move back into the family home to help out. Sif had long ago moved away to take up a management position down south, so leaving the cheap flat he'd been renting was just a case of waiting out his notice.

His father died after a long illness and his mother never really got over it. Thor did what he could, but she wasn't the same. Slow to smile sometimes. Certain days just too difficult, too full of memories. But would she have traded those days for anything in the world? Thor didn't think so. They'd had so many wonderful times and sometimes she could still laugh over old stories or reminisce in a way that didn't leave her sad. 

Most days, Thor called Loki or messaged him, sent him pictures. Sometimes he wrote letters. They felt special somehow, the excitement in Loki's voice when one had arrived always pleasing him.

He was the first to say "I love you." At first, Loki rejected it. He talked about distance, about friendship. And so Thor didn't push. He didn't press. Evidently they weren't quite ready for that.

The next time they visited in person, Loki whispered it in bed in a moment Thor would mark down as the most romantic of his entire life. More so even than finding that Loki had kept the note he'd written on that bright spring day asking permission to remain friends carefully preserved through all these years.

It wasn't always perfect. They fought sometimes, of course. And they got scared, for themselves and each other. Thor worried that Loki wouldn't want him as he noticed little things like needing bigger shirts or more grey hairs on his pillow. And Loki sometimes talked about how worried he was by Thor's single-mindedness. What if they couldn't make it work? What would Thor do then?

But for the most part, Thor found he only loved Loki more and more each day. He loved to hear his opinions about the world, his stories, his ideas. Even his worries, sometimes.

When his mother died, it was Loki who comforted him. Loki, who had seen so much loss, listening to him cry, telling him it would be alright. Loki who asked if he needed to come to Dresden after the funeral.

"Can I come forever?" he'd asked through the tears. "I think... I think it might be time." 

A brief pause.

"Of course. Come home, Thor."

He moved over as soon as his affairs were settled. Loki had cleared space for him, picture hooks, shelves and so on. And though it took some getting used to, after a while he felt like he'd always been there. In time, he "bought" the apartment with the money from selling his parents' house. Loki felt more comfortable having someone fully traceable's name on the deed. Thor didn't really understand, but he went with it anyway.

At least when he was in his late forties and early fifties, they could go out and be semi-romantic in public. Loki didn't care about the looks they got, but Thor didn't much like how increasingly confused or sometimes hostile they became as he got older and older.

"I feel like such a cradle snatcher," he complained one day as Loki lounged on top of him, pouting a little.

"I'm over two hundred years older than you, in case you've forgotten."

"But you're still so beautiful. It's hardly fair."

And Loki leant in to kiss him so softly, so lovingly, tracing every line of his face with his lips to remind him he was still desirable.

Some days he was needy like that.

He still didn't like being mistaken for Loki's father though.

And worse, having Loki mistaken for his carer. Even if that was sometimes true, to an extent. He never did entirely get the hang of German, but he tried hard enough that everyone was kind to him about getting his word order all muddled.

He reached his sixties, seventies, eighties. Their physical relationship changed, as he'd known it would. He couldn't keep up anymore, much more likely to enjoy lying side by side and handling their own pleasure together. But still Loki loved him, cuddled up to him on lazy days, being gentle with his fragile skin.

He was lucky really. He had his health, more or less. He didn't suffer in the same way his father had, or even some of his old friends. He was still mobile, although stairs could be a challenge, and though sometimes a word would slip away from the tip of his tongue, otherwise he felt broadly unscathed by time.

Until the day he woke up and nothing hurt. Not even a twinge in his back or a stiffness in his legs. Wow. He hadn't felt this good in years. Decades. Something just have changed during the night for this to be the case.

He sat up, but his body didn't move. Oh?

_Oh..._

He could still see both his body and himself, the part of himself that seemed to be his consciousness. It was strange. It looked like him, but not him now. Him back then, a long time ago. How long had it been since his hands were that smooth, his stomach that tight?

He was marvelling at this peculiarity when Loki came through the door.

He hadn't opened it. He'd passed right through the wood.

"Thor? What's happening? I'm... I don't know. Something's... Wow. What happened to you?"

Loki's scar was gone. All his scars were gone. Thor reached for him, amazed to find that they were solid to one another at least. He wasn't entirely sure how his feet were still on the ground other than by force of habit.

"I think... I think I'm dead, sweetheart."

Loki blinked at him, mouth open, trying to find words and unable to, possibly for the first time in his long existence as the world began to dissolve around them.

"I think we might be passing over," Thor said. "Both of us, if you can still hear me."

He couldn't see his body anymore, his real body, the old man mask he'd lived behind while still feeling as he always had. It was like a fog rolling in, gently and silently covering everything.

"But... But I've been waiting so long," Loki said. "Why now? Why with no warning?"

The walls were gone. What colour had they been? Blue? Or was it grey? Or that biscuity magnolia? Suddenly it wasn't important. Only Loki was important, real and safe and here to be held.

"You must have found your unfinished business," Thor said, voice echoing. "I wonder what it was."

Loki laughed, the sound thick with the tears in his eyes, but smiling all the same.

"Isn't it obvious?" he asked. "It was you. I needed someone to share a lifetime with. Someone to be with for as many years as possible. A friend and companion, someone to love with all that comes with that."

Could it be true? Was that the answer?

There didn't seem to be a floor anymore. This was a strangely ordinary thought, barely worthy of note.

"I'm... I'm glad you're here with me," Thor said. "Even in this."

Loki smiled at him, so open, the only thing in his vision now and kissed him.

"Forever."

The world went completely white. Though maybe there was something over there, on the horizon...

Loki took his hand, squeezing tightly.

And they stepped onwards together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Should I tag this as Major Character Death? I worry about putting people off, but if you think so then I will.)


End file.
